


Fate Don't Make Mistakes

by corruptedkid



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Demons, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bandom Big Bang, Bandom Big Bang 2017, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 81,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corruptedkid/pseuds/corruptedkid
Summary: After meeting the wrong end of a blade, Gerard wakes up in a mysterious realm called the Under. He's surrounded by demons who all seem to think he's something special, but none of them will answer his questions. They reveal nothing except the fact that he died too soon. The only person willing to help is Frank, his self-appointed guide, who swears he can bring Gerard home. He escorts Gerard across the Under, and together they confront enemies, unexpected feelings, and secrets of the darkest kind.In the end, all it takes is one misplaced soul to bring worlds crashing down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for bandom big bang 2017. complement art by [starryfrights](https://beneaththefoam.tumblr.com/) can be found [here!](https://beneaththefoam.tumblr.com/post/166297122589/art-for-corruptedkid-s-bbb-fic-im-so-excited)
> 
> there are so many people i need to acknowledge for their assistance. my cheesy thank-yous go out to the following:
> 
> \- the mods, for being super accommodating and for running this challenge. i can't tell you how much it meant to me to be able to participate. thank you for keeping BBB alive after all these years.
> 
> \- [hannah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/personalized_radio/pseuds/personalized_radio), aka the best beta in the world. i couldn't have done this without your help, and don't bother telling me i could've 'cause that's a damn lie. your input made this story a hundred times better. thanks to you, i had the confidence to start writing and the motivation to finish. AWC for life! love you!!!! 
> 
> \- [edie](https://beneaththefoam.tumblr.com), for being a fucking amazing artist. you've heard me squeal over your art a thousand times already, but what can i say? it's that good. bless your entire soul. (edie's art is linked above! please show her some love, she deserves it!!)
> 
> \- [katz](http://archiveofourown.org/users/knameless/pseuds/knameless), for reading and encouraging me.
> 
> \- [louise](http://archiveofourown.org/users/demolicious_lover/pseuds/demolicious_lover), for being the sweetest gal alive.
> 
> and last but not least, to each and every person who takes the time to read this fic! it means the world to me. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing!!! <3
> 
> EDIT: i made a playlist to go with this fic! it can be found [here.](https://open.spotify.com/user/inventingsongs/playlist/5TnAAeYrlA1gziGZ5Z0aQV?si=h87NWbGzR2-gj9PKxN0Bjg)

Gerard looked up over the rim of his coffee cup and tried not to smile. Mikey might _claim_ he wasn’t interested in Alicia, but those claims became less and less believable each time Gerard saw them talk. Alicia had her back turned to him, distracted by whatever mess of caramel and caffeine some customer had ordered, and Mikey was doing a very bad job fighting off a smile as he watched her. 

Gerard took another sip of coffee, then set his cup down and pushed out his chair. He approached the counter, leaning against it and smirking at Mikey. “Shouldn’t you be working?”

“I am working,” Mikey said, flipping a switch on one of the machines. It hissed loudly and began to spit foam into a metal cup he held at the ready. 

“Really? You don’t seem very focused,” Gerard said lightly. He looked over at Alicia. “Hey, Alicia, do you think Mikey’s focused?”

“One can never tell,” she said breezily, scribbling a customer’s name onto a latte piled with whipped cream. Mikey gave Gerard one of his best stony stares.

“I think he’s a little distracted,” said Gerard. “Either that, or your back’s just really interesti -”

Mikey coughed loudly. “Can I talk to my brother for a minute?” When Alicia glanced over at him, he was innocent as could be, but the second she turned her back, he was glaring daggers at Gerard. 

“Sure, as long as you’re back in less than a minute,” said Alicia. “Brian’s not thinking too highly of you after the last time he caught you texting on the job.”

“This shouldn’t take long,” said Mikey. He swung the gate open so Gerard could step behind the counter, then yanked him toward the back room. Gerard had one hand on the doorknob when Mikey stopped him. “You’re not allowed back there.” 

“What? Why not?”

“Because. Customers aren’t allowed, and she said less than a minute, come on.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, but drew his hand back. Mikey crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorframe. “So,” he said, quietly enough that Alicia couldn’t hear. “Did you really come here just to make fun of me?” He arched an eyebrow. 

“Yep,” Gerard said cheerfully. “I mean, you talk about her so much, Mikes, I wanted to meet her.”

“What?” Mikey looked at him like he was crazy. “Since when do I talk about her?”

“Every day?” Gerard suggested. “Or at least every other day.”

“I do not.”

“You mention her way more often than your other coworkers. For you, that might as well be swooning.”

Mikey looked up to the ceiling, sighing deeply. “We’re just good friends, all right? We’ve got a lot in common. And if I _did_ want to ask her out, you’d be doing absolutely no good by hovering over my shoulder and teasing, got it?”

Gerard could take a hint. “All right, I’ll leave you alone,” he said, raising his hands in surrender. “But you know, if you don’t quit saying you’re not into her, she might actually believe it.”

“Thanks for the advice. You’re so helpful. I’m so lucky to get romantic advice from you, the casanova who hasn’t had a single date in, how long has it been? A year?” Gerard scowled, and Mikey gave him a faux-sympathetic look. “Yeah. Glad we had this talk.” He patted Gerard on the shoulder and turned to head back to the counter. 

“Forty-two seconds,” Alicia said with approval. “Nice. Now let’s see how fast you can make a cappuccino.” She smiled at Mikey and tossed him an empty paper cup. 

Gerard took that as his cue to go. He stepped through the gate, pulling it shut behind him, and checked the time on his phone. He had class in half an hour, but it would only take him a couple minutes to walk over. That meant he could either hang around until it was time to leave, or show up early. 

He pulled out his chair and sat down. He’d take chilling in a cafe over silently waiting for a teacher to show up any day. Besides, the cafe was one of his favorite places to draw in. Due to its proximity to the art buildings, it attracted some of the odder members of the student body, most of whom made perfect sketching material. The staff seemed to like him, too. He’d initially known most of them through Mikey, but become genuinely friendly with them after Spencer had seen him drawing and asked him to design a poster for an upcoming event. Gerard had semi-regularly contributed art to the cafe ever since then, with free coffee as his payment. It was kind of fucking awesome.

He pulled his sketchbook out of his bag and settled back, scanning the line for any potential candidates. The pre-class rush was starting to hit; students of all kinds were lining up to get their caffeine fix before they had to sit through an hour’s lecture. Gerard gave each of them a brief once-over, the tip of his pen tapping against the page. None of them really spoke to him. He was half-hoping to see the girl from last week with the huge hoop earrings, or the guy with the bow tie who sometimes stepped in, but luck wasn’t on his side. He ended up staring at the TV screen mounted in the corner, watching the evening news roll by without taking any of it in. 

“- series of increasingly brutal murders in the Belleville area. We can only hope that this violence comes to an end in the near future. The police maintain that the killer will be apprehended in -”

Gerard did a double take.

The anchorwoman on-screen was looking grim, and emblazoned behind her was a blurry image with a figure circled in red. “The killer, recently dubbed the ‘Jersey Devil’ following the horrific murder of Maria Jenkins, has been increasingly active as of late. All citizens are advised to use caution when traveling alone or after dark.”

Gerard’s pen stilled. It wasn’t like he wasn’t accustomed to violence; in a neighborhood like his, it was fairly common. But actual serial killings weren’t something that happened every day. It probably wouldn’t affect him, though. He’d just take out his earbuds if he was walking by himself and try not to duck through any dodgy alleyways. Piece of cake. 

A tiny girl in a patchwork skirt stepped through the door, and he grinned to himself, sketching out the first line of her ponytail.

***

Mikey was stretched out over the couch, all long limbs and a deep-set frown as he scrolled through something on his phone. Gerard leaned over his shoulder and tilted the screen back so he could see. “What’re you reading?”

“The news,” said Mikey. 

Gerard nodded in understanding. “The murders?”

Mikey nodded. The so-called “Jersey Devil” had been dominating headlines for weeks now. At first, it hadn’t bothered Gerard, but the more he read, the less easy it was to brush off. The murderer had claimed ten victims in six weeks. Each kill was more gory than the last. Gerard had given up following the details after he read about a girl who had been found with her internal organs on the floor next to her. 

“Don’t tell me there’s been another one?” he said.

“Nah, just one of the families making a statement.” Mikey clicked his phone off and sighed. “Man, this sucks.”

Gerard hummed in agreement. Ever since the number of killings had begun to accelerate, the campus had been gripped in a widespread sense of fear. It was inescapable. Students were starting to walk around in packs. Large groups of people usually made him nervous, but now, he didn’t worry when they walked past him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. He worried when _no one_ walked past him. If he was alone, there was no way to guarantee his safety. 

He’d tried so hard to avoid it, but the fear had caught up with him and pulled him under. 

He could only hope this would all blow over soon.

***

Gerard kicked at a rock in the middle of the sidewalk. It was unbearably fucking hot outside, and he was boiling to death in his hoodie, adding to what had already been a bad mood. “Art school is such bullshit,” he muttered.

“What is it this time?” Mikey asked. The edges of his hair were damp with sweat, but at least he’d had the foresight to wear a t-shirt. Gerard privately wished he had listened when Mikey had advised him not to wear so many layers.

“This project. I should’ve started working on it a long time ago, but I didn’t, because I’m an idiot, and now the deadline’s coming up and I have no idea what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Mikey said with a shrug. “You always do.”

“But…” Gerard wiped at his forehead, sighing. “I dunno. The prompt is ‘deconstruction,’ and every time I think of something, it’s completely unoriginal. They’re expecting more from me by now.”

Mikey snorted. “It’s your own fault for being so good at art.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s true. Look, everybody goes through shit like this. It’s just like writer’s block, but with drawing, right? All you have to do is push through it,” said Mikey. “You’ll do fine. Trust me.”

Gerard flashed a grateful smile at his brother. He was still worried, but with Mikey’s reassurance, he felt a little better. He would make it. He would _have_ to, or else he’d be disappointing both himself _and_ his brother. It was a weird, stressful sort of motivation, but hey, it worked.

“So, what do you think you’re gonna…” Mikey paused and sniffed the air. “You smell that?”

“Smell what?”

“Smoke.”

Gerard shrugged. “Somebody’s having a barbeque?”

“Yeah, but…”

It was like a switch was flipped, and all of a sudden, every one of Mikey’s muscles tensed. He was staring at something down the road, eyes wide. Gerard followed his gaze, and his heart jumped into his throat. 

At the end of the street, a house was up in flames, sending plumes of thick, dark smoke into the air. 

Gerard was speechless for a moment, then fumbled for his cell phone. “Shit, shit, we gotta do something -”

“We’ve got to _go_ ,” said Mikey, uncharacteristically pale. He grabbed onto Gerard’s hand, but Gerard shook him off.

“Are you crazy? There could be people in there, we have to help!” He took off running down the street as fast as he could, which admittedly wasn’t very fast, but adrenaline spurred him on. He could hear Mikey panting close behind him. 

“Gerard, wait!”

Gerard didn’t wait. He skidded to a halt in front of the house, and even from twenty feet away, he could feel the heat searing his cheeks. Mikey caught up with him in an instant and grabbed his hand again, more firmly this time.

“Gee,” he said. “Let’s go. We can call 911. They’ll handle it, we can’t do anything here.” His voice was just a titch higher than usual. To a stranger, someone who didn’t know his mannerisms, it would have been unnoticeable, but to Gerard, it was a sign of panic. It was enough to stop him in his tracks. 

Mikey had always been the rational one between the two of them. If he thought Gerard should leave it to the professionals, Gerard should probably listen.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed as quickly as he could. Mikey was right. This was the best they could do. 

Just as he raised it to his ear, a bloodcurdling scream came from inside the house.

Gerard nearly dropped his cell phone. “Mikey,” he said shakily. “Mikey - shit, there’s somebody _in there_.” He knew he was stating the obvious, but it felt like his brain was short-circuiting, caught on endless loop. There was someone trapped inside, and there they were, doing nothing. Fuck. 

“We need to go,” Mikey said. He yanked at Gerard’s sleeve, but Gerard was frozen in place.

“911, what’s your emergency?” said a tinny voice from his phone. 

Mikey grabbed the phone from him and continued pulling at Gerard. “Hi, my name’s Mikey Way and there’s a house on fire.” He answered each of the operator’s questions, his tugs at Gerard’s sleeve becoming increasingly urgent until he muffled the phone with his hand and hissed, “We can go now, dipshit! Come on!”

“But there’s someone in there!” Gerard protested. “We can’t just leave!”

“Yes we can! Do I look like a firefighter to you? We need to go before it spreads, come on.” Gerard finally allowed himself to be guided away, but kept his eyes fixed on the house. Just as they started walking, the door was flung open.

“Mikey,” he said, his throat dry.

“Yes, there’s someone inside,” Mikey said into the phone. “I don’t know. I heard a scream, but that’s it.”

“Mikey,” Gerard repeated. 

A woman stumbled to the doorway, clutching a hand to her side. Her blouse was stained bright red. She was coughing, smoke billowing from the hall behind her, but the second she regained her breath, Gerard could make out a hoarse call for help. 

He didn’t think before he moved. One second, he was standing next to Mikey, and the next, he was running. The only thing on his mind was to _get to the door_.

But Mikey was faster.

His fingers locked around Gerard’s wrist, and Gerard skidded to a halt, nearly falling over. He tried to wrench his arm away, but Mikey had him in a vice grip. ”What the hell?” he demanded. “She needs help, Mikey!”

“There’s nothing you can do!”

“What? All she needs is help out the door, God -”

“If you go in there, you’re going to die!” Mikey shouted, and Gerard stared. Mikey was not a loud person. Mikey, for the most part, was a very calm person, but now, he looked genuinely terrified.

“What do you -”

The woman screamed again, louder than before. Gerard had never heard anything quite like it. It wasn’t shrill like in the movies, not forced. It sounded like it was being ripped right out of her throat. It was chilling, it was visceral, but the scream itself was nothing compared to the way it _stopped._

There was a noise like paper being shredded, a thud, and silence.

“Gerard, don’t,” said Mikey, but Gerard had already turned his head. 

The woman was lying in a crumpled heap in the doorway. Standing over her was a man with long, dark hair, holding a bloody knife. 

Mikey wrenched Gerard’s arm so hard he thought it might pop out of the socket, and this time, neither of them stopped running until they had made it home, the apartment door bolted shut behind them.

***

Gerard gasped for breath, his heart hammering against his ribs fast enough to make him lightheaded. His sheets were tangled around him, and for one wild moment, it felt like they were wrapping tighter and tighter, binding him in place. He threw them off and sat upright, breathing hard in the darkness. He could still feel the pavement beneath his feet as he ran. Fuck, he could still hear that woman screaming, see the blood that stained her clothes. No matter how many times he dreamed of it, it never got any less vivid.

The door opened just a crack, and Gerard jumped.

“Gee?” Mikey said softly. “You okay?”

Gerard could only manage a nod.

“Mmm. Dreams again?”

“Yeah. I just… can’t stop thinking about what happened, I guess.”

Gerard laid back down, forcing himself to breathe evenly. After a minute, he heard the door close, and he relaxed a little. 

Then the mattress dipped down, and Mikey was laying down on the other side of the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Gerard thought about protesting, but his eyes were beginning to droop again. He was too tired, too filled with lingering fear to turn down a bit of company.

His heart rate began to slow, and before long, he was drifting back into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

***

“Can you get off my ass? I said I’d be fine.” Gerard didn’t look away from the TV. He didn’t need to; he could feel the disapproval radiating from his brother. 

“Will you really, though? Because the last time you came to a party with me, you got totally smashed, and I had to take you home,” Mikey said flatly. 

“Past performance isn’t an indicator of future results,” Gerard muttered.

“It is if it keeps happening over and over again, asshole. This has been going on ever since school started.”

“I thought you wanted me to get out more.”

Mikey sighed. “Look, I don’t care if you’re not a party person. I just want you to hang out with me sometimes. It’s fun. Except it’s not fun, because the second we’re in a social setting you start drinking, and I feel like I can’t trust you anymore.”

“Who are you, my mom?” Gerard said, finally turning his head to give Mikey an annoyed look. “It’ll be fine. If you really don’t trust me, why did you invite me?”

“Because I want to give you a chance,” said Mikey. “Show me you can have self control for once. Please.”

Gerard scowled. “It’s not about _self control_ -”

“Then what is it?” Mikey said, frustrated. “I’m not pissed at you, I’m fucking worried, okay? You have a problem! Did you think I wouldn’t notice after you got kicked out of your fucking apartment and had to _move in with me_? I don’t want to see you get any more fucked up. This isn’t just stupid, it’s unhealthy. Just talk to me, Gerard, come _on_.”

“I’m fine,” Gerard said sharply.

“Right. Because you were totally fine when you had a panic attack in Ryan’s bathroom.”

Gerard grabbed the remote and hit pause. “Seriously?” he said. “You’re seriously bringing that up?”

Mikey was unfazed. “You’re not going to get out of this one, Gee. Be honest with me. Are you okay?”

Gerard stared. “What do you expect me to say? _Yes_? Mikey, I haven’t fucking slept since we saw that lady get killed. I can barely walk to class on my own without having a heart attack. I can’t keep up with my assignments, I can’t even _draw_ anymore, I’m so freaked out - why the fuck would I be okay?”

Mikey closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “At least you’re honest.”

“And what the fuck does that mean?” Gerard demanded.

“It mean’s you’ve been drinking away your problems for months and telling me it was fine!” Mikey snapped. “Why can’t you just let me help?”

“Because I don’t know if you can!” said Gerard, his voice breaking a bit. A hot wave of shame swept over him. Mikey’s expression softened a bit. He leaned back against the wall, lips pursed, and let the silence hang over them.

“I’d try, if you let me,” he said. “Is that so bad?”

Gerard shook his head slightly.

“Do you wanna just hang out tonight? I can tell Pete I’m not coming.” 

Gerard nodded.

Mikey took the remote, hit play, and scooted closer to Gerard. Gerard’s throat still felt uncomfortably tight, but with Mikey’s bony shoulder against his and a screen full of explosions, he felt the knot in his stomach slowly unwind. 

It was the closest to relaxed he’d felt in weeks.

***

Gerard’s throat burned as he swallowed, but it was a welcome feeling. The heat was a nice contrast to the chills that had overtaken him as of late. He needed to stop thinking, and what better way was there than to cloud his mind with shitty alcohol? It made everything seem hazy, and for once, he could close his eyes without seeing a dark shape silhouetted against a blaze of orange.

Something vibrated in his pocket. It took him a moment to realize it was his phone, and he fumbled to take it out, nearly dropping it in the process. His fingers felt thick and clumsy. Maybe he’d had a little too much to drink.

Oh, who was he kidding. There was no such thing as too much. Not anymore.

He accepted the call, not needing to check the caller ID to know who it was. “Hey, Mikes.”

“Hey,” said Mikey. “Are you okay?”

That was how he’d begun every conversation lately. The murder streak had only gotten bloodier with time. Mikey had been on edge for days, and he’d barely left Gerard alone for more than five minutes. To be fair, though, Gerard was just as tense, and he found himself sticking to his brother like glue. They only had each other, and each of them was obligated to protect the other.

“‘M fine,” he mumbled. “How ‘bout you?” He looked up at the ceiling, squinting with confusion. “Wait… Why aren’ you home? I thought you were here.”

Mikey sighed. “I went to the shop to talk to Brian. He knows I’ve been trying to stay home with you, and he gets it, but I don’t want to be fired or anything. I said I’d pick up extra shifts next week. I might’ve stayed to work, but I thought I should call first to check in. Looks like you needed it. You’re drunk. Again.” It wasn’t a question. “I’ll be home in ten minutes.”

“No,” Gerard protested weakly. “‘M fine, Mikey, you don’t have to do that. Stay if you wanna.”

“I really don’t care. It’s not a big deal, and I don’t want you to be by yourself. Just stay put and don’t drink any more, okay?”

Gerard laughed a little too hard. “I don’ think there’s much left _to_ drink.”

“Just stay put,” Mikey said wearily. “Okay?”

Gerard nodded, then remembered Mikey couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I’ll wait for you.”

Mikey sighed again, and the line went dead. Gerard let the phone slip out of his hand and onto the couch beside him. He stared up at the ceiling, absently wondering what would happen if he tried to stand up. The room had grown hot and stuffy since he had sat down, but the likelihood of him falling over if he tried to get up and turn the heat down was far too high for him to consider it. He had already taken his hoodie off. What more did the world expect from him?

Fuck. It really was hot.

Gerard made a weak groaning sound and slid off the couch, landing on the floor with a _thump_. He waited until the room stopped spinning to push himself to his feet. His head was starting to hurt, and walking took way more effort than it should have, but he managed to get over to the door and wrench it open. 

A gentle breeze drifted through the door, playing at his hair and soothing the heat that had been suffocating him. Fuck, that was nice. 

He shuffled forward onto the front step. The breeze picked up a bit, and he took a deep breath, relishing in the cool air that filled his lungs.

And that was when he felt the warmth on the back of his neck. 

For a second, the sensation didn’t register. It was the barest change in temperature, a warm tickle against his skin, but it was there. It felt like someone else’s breath. Just as the thought occurred to him, he felt something brush against his back.

_What the actual fuck._

Gerard belatedly realized that he should have been running by now. 

“Should’ve listened to that brother of yours,” a low voice purred into his ear. Gerard startled, and it was like his vision was thrown back into focus. He tripped forward, cursing his heavy limbs, but it was too late. A pair of arms wrapped around his neck from behind, trapping him in place.

There was a searing flash of pain, and then nothing.

***

Gerard didn’t think he’d ever felt so hungover in his life. Everything hurt. His head ached, his throat burned like hell, and each of his bones felt like they’d been snapped and strung back together with barbed wire. He tried to move his fingers, but even such a small motion sent a shockwave of pain through him. 

What the fuck had he _done_ last night?

He braced himself, then opened his eyes, squinting against the combination of light and pain that was sure to come. 

Surprisingly enough, the light didn’t hurt too badly. He let his eyes open all the way, taking in his surroundings with a vague sense of curiosity. This definitely wasn’t where he had begun the night. The last thing he remembered, he’d been watching the news, and, like always, the anchor wouldn’t shut up about those fucking murders. Gerard had broken out the liquor to combat the anxiety, and that was where his memories turned fuzzy. 

But whatever had happened, he didn’t know how the fuck he’d gotten _here._

He was lying on the ground in what looked like the middle of a desert. The ground was blackened and burnt, covered in dark sand with some larger boulders scattered around. The sky was a mass of blood-red clouds, frothing and rolling as if they were about to erupt into flames. That wasn’t a good sign. In fact, that was a very _bad_ sign, and Gerard would have been content to get the fuck out of there at any moment, thanks. He propped himself up on his elbows and sat up. The sand seemed to stretch on for miles, with no end in sight. There were no buildings, no roads, no signs of life at all.

He was alone. 

“Okay,” he said under his breath. “Don’t panic.”

He reached into the pocket of his jeans for his cell phone, but came up with nothing. 

“Okay,” he said again. “Maybe panic a little.”

Gerard pushed himself to his feet, patting at his pockets frantically. Great. He was alone in the middle of a goddamn desert with no civilization in sight, and he had no means of contacting anyone. He was well and truly fucked. 

There was nothing he could do but pick a direction and walk. It was a simple enough plan, but he could already see ways in which it could go wrong. He could steer himself even further away from civilization, he could get hurt while no one was around to help, or, if his luck was supremely shitty, he might never find his way at all. He might be stuck wandering the desert forever. 

His thoughts were already racing with fear. Gerard forced himself to take deep breaths. All he had to do was take it one step at a time, and then he’d find his way back home. 

He turned in a circle, scanning over the horizon. He couldn’t tell which direction looked most promising. The landscape amounted to _desolate wasteland_ for as far as he could see.

“How the _fuck_ did I get here?” he asked under his breath.

“You died!” said a voice. Gerard let out a very undignified shriek and whipped around, his eyes landing on a cheerful-looking man. He had long wavy hair that went down past his shoulders, a crooked grin, and eyes that sparkled with inexplicable amusement. He _looked_ real enough, but with the hangover eating its way through Gerard’s skull, he wasn’t sure of anything aside from the fact that the man definitely hadn’t been standing there a moment before. 

“Hey there,” he said. “Sorry for scaring you. I know all this can be pretty shocking. You’ll adjust, though.”

“You…” Gerard stared at the man, then back at the desert around them. “You weren’t there. You were _not here_ five seconds ago, what the _fuck_ -”

“Shhh,” the man said soothingly. “It’s all right. I can explain.” He stuck out his hand. “My name’s Bert. What’s yours?”

Gerard regarded him with suspicion before taking his hand and shaking it. “Gerard. Where am I?”

“The Under!” said Bert. 

Gerard blinked. “I’m where?”

“The Under,” Bert repeated. “To make a long story short, you’re in hell, man.”

Gerard stared at him. “Like… metaphorically?”

Bert laughed and shook his head. “Nope. Completely literal. Well…” He took on a thoughtful expression. “It’s not exactly _hell_ ; it’s a bit more complicated than that. But you did die, and you did get sent to the bad place, so a lot of people would call it that. I’m just trying to make it easier for you to understand.”

Gerard shook his head slowly, turning around to stare out at the desert. This guy was either crazy or pulling a very elaborate practical joke, but either way, he was no help to Gerard. “Um, okay. Thanks for your help, but I’m gonna try and see if I can find a way back to my apartment.”

Bert snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that.” Gerard didn’t turn around. He just started walking, focusing on keeping his breathing steady as his shoes crunched against the sand. This was probably the weirdest scenario he’d ever gotten himself into, but he would make it out. He just had to find a road.

Or, at least, that was what he told himself. He was having a bit of trouble believing it. 

“One more thing!” Bert called after him. Gerard didn’t look back. He heard Bert sigh, then: “Damn it, dude, just look at me!”

Gerard glanced over his shoulder, then jumped about a foot.

Bert was hovering in midair with his feet kicked up, wearing the same cheeky grin he had when Gerard had first laid eyes on him. “Yeah, I’m actually not fucking with you. Thought you should know that before you went on your little stroll across eternity.” 

Gerard stood frozen for a second before racing back over to Bert. He skidded to a halt, pointing to the ground, then Bert, then at himself. “I - _what_? Oh my God -”

“Nah, you’re not gonna find him around here.”

“Holy shit,” Gerard said blankly. “You’re floating.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m dead too, dumbass. You can do whatever you want down here,” said Bert. “It’s not like you’ve got a mortal body keeping you grounded anymore.”

“You’re dead,” said Gerard faintly. “You’re… dead. Like a ghost.”

Bert pursed his lips. “Not a _ghost_ , exactly. But yeah, I’m dead. And so are you.” 

Gerard had been hoping he wouldn’t repeat that last part. It became much more difficult to ignore when it was said out loud. 

_So are you._

He turned the words over in his mouth, but no matter how hard he tried to make them compute, they just wouldn’t. He couldn’t be dead. If he were dead, he wouldn’t be thinking, or breathing, or speaking. There was just no way. 

But people didn’t just _float_. Not in his world. 

“I’m dead,” he said out loud. 

Fuck.

Bert was clearly delighting in his shock. “Yep!” he said. “Dead as a fuckin’ doornail.” He turned over onto his stomach and propped his elbows up to support his chin, still hovering at eye level. “So. What’d you do to get sent down here?”

“I…” Gerard was at a loss for words. Bert was taking this far too casually. Gerard still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he’d apparently died, much less fathom the realm that came after. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what happened.”

“Well, judging by _that_ ,” said Bert, pointing to Gerard’s neck, “I’m gonna guess you got your throat slashed.”

“What?” Gerard touched a hand to his neck. It should have felt smooth, but instead, he ran his fingers across a jagged, raised scar. 

“That’s a shitty way to go,” Bert said sympathetically. “But at least it was dramatic.”

Gerard swallowed hard. “I don’t remember it. I was just at home, and then I was here.”

“Sometimes you get a bit of amnesia. It might come back, might not. If I were you, I’d be hoping it doesn’t.” Bert sat up, and in the blink of an eye, he had both feet back on the ground again. “So. I hate to rush you, man, but we should probably be heading for the hills before anybody sniffs us out.”

Gerard frowned. “Sniffs us out?”

“You and I aren’t the only creatures down here,” said Bert. His tone was light as ever, but his words spoke of a darkness Gerard really didn’t want to think about. 

Bert clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll be fine if you stick with me! I know a safe place we can go.” He began to lead Gerard away across the sand. He seemed to know where he was going, but to Gerard, all their surroundings looked the same. The path they trod made no sense to him.

“It gets easier to navigate with time,” Bert explained, as if he could read Gerard’s mind. “Once you spend a few centuries down here, you’ll know it like the back of your hand.”

“A few centuries,” Gerard repeated. “Right.” Because that was apparently a thing.

Bert laughed. “Aw, c’mon, Gerard - it was Gerard, wasn’t it?” Gerard nodded. “Look, dude, you’re fine. No oblivion, no eternal torment. This place really isn’t so bad, once you get used to it. Honestly, I think it’s better than the Middle.”

“The Middle?” Gerard questioned. 

“Where you came from. The place with the humans.”

“Oh.” Apparently, there was a lot Gerard would have to learn. If this was even real. Maybe he was just hallucinating, or in a coma. This could all just be a crazy fever dream.

Bert nudged him. “Why’re you so down, man? Most people are more relieved when they realize they’re not gonna be getting deep fried for the rest of forever.”

Gerard shook his head, staring at the ground. “Just trying to process everything.” He paused, letting his thoughts continue to circle, but it did him no good. After a few more minutes of silence, he couldn’t take it. “There’s no way this is hell,” he burst out. “No way. I’m gonna wake up, and me and Mikey are gonna get coffee, and I’ll tell him about this wacky dream I had, and everything’s gonna be okay. Because I’m not dead. I’m just not.”

“Who’s Mikey?” Bert asked, intrigued.

“My brother.” There were so many reasons Gerard couldn’t possibly be dead, and Mikey was number one. He couldn’t be dead, because if he was, Mikey would be alone. 

This was just a dream. He couldn’t accept it as anything else. 

“I’m sure he’ll miss you,” Bert said softly. 

“Sure,” Gerard said tiredly. He didn’t want to argue with someone who was most likely a figment of his imagination. 

“What’s he like?” Bert prompted. “He must be pretty cool if you’re so beat up about leaving him behind.”

Gerard winced. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s cool. He’s… a nerd, pretty much. He likes Batman and Star Wars and he plays bass.” He didn’t really pay attention to the words that were coming from his own mouth. He just said whatever came to mind. If Bert was just a part of this dream, he wouldn’t mind if Gerard rambled. “We used to talk about forming a band someday.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” said Bert. He hopped up into the air again, strolling along about a foot above the ground. “You two were close, then?”

“The closest.” Gerard couldn’t imagine being separated from Mikey. It would feel like… well, it would feel like dying.

Bert laughed, and he had just opened his mouth to say something when a jet of darkness struck him in the chest and knocked him out of the air. It stabbed into his shirt, and a spot of red welled up before he hissed and yanked it out. Gerard froze. 

What.

_What?_

A man appeared at Gerard’s side and marched up to Bert, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snarled. 

The black whatever-it-was retracted, turning to a plume of smoke and curling around the man’s arm before vanishing. 

“Frank,” said Bert, a layer of panic in his voice. “Long time, no see! I was just passing through, and -”

“And you just so happened to pick up the first soul you saw,” the man, Frank, growled. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Okay, this dream had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. What the hell was Gerard supposed to do in a situation like this? He felt like he should help, but at the same time, his brain was screaming for him to run and never look back.

“I’m not doing anything!” Bert protested. “I was just gonna show him to his circle!”

“Sure you were.” Frank grabbed a fistful of Bert’s hair, and before Gerard knew it, he’d slammed Bert’s head against the ground with an audible _crack_. Gerard cringed at the sound of the impact. “Listen up, and listen well, you piece of shit. You’re gonna get off my territory. You’re not gonna come back. And you sure as fuck aren’t going to keep interfering with my job, _got it_?” He yanked Bert up by his hair and twisted. 

“Um,” Gerard said weakly. “Isn’t that a little harsh?” He was practically trembling with fear, but his limbs were frozen; he couldn’t move. Stupid fucking dream. Stupid fucking hangover dream that he couldn’t run away from, _fuck_.

Frank turned to face him, scowling, and Gerard gasped. 

His eyes were solid black.

“I don’t know what he said to you,” Frank said, “But he lied.”

He raised his hand, and the same dark, smoke-like substance he had previously controlled began to reform. The sight of it made Gerard’s heart beat faster, and he had just begun to protest when it solidified into something akin to a knife. 

It plunged toward Bert’s throat, and Gerard stopped breathing.

But then it stopped.

Bert’s lips were curled back into a sneer, and he had his hands wrapped around the not-smoke. He jerked it to the side, and it disappeared, dissolving into the air. “Nice try, hellboy, but I think you’re forgetting who you’re up against.” He blinked, and when his eyes opened, his previously blue eyes were the same shade of black as Frank’s. 

“As if I could ever forget,” Frank spat. “What do you want with him?” He jerked his head toward Gerard.

Bert laughed, a cold, mocking sound. “What do I want? You’re every bit as stupid as you look. I’m just interested, Frank. With a soul like his, how could I not be?” He pushed Frank off him and stood up. His posture had changed, somehow; it was tighter, more upright, almost intimidatingly confident. 

“What are you on about?” Frank snapped. Both his hands were filled with seething balls of smoke. 

Bert scoffed. “You think a bit of magic is gonna hurt me?”

“Answer the question, dickface.”

“Take a look at your little catch,” said Bert. “And tell me I’m wrong to be intrigued.”

“As if I’m going to fall for that,” said Frank, keeping his eyes trained on Bert. Or, it looked like he was. Gerard couldn’t tell. He didn’t have pupils to give an indication of where he was looking.

Bert continued as if Frank hadn’t spoken. “Honestly, you should be glad he’s here. It’d give you a chance to be something other than useless. You could use him for anything you wanted. You could sell him, trade him off…” He stopped, eyes wide, then burst out laughing. “Holy _shit_ , you could trade him in for a promotion!”

“What are you _talking about_?”

“Just take a look,” Bert said smoothly, “And you’ll know exactly what I mean.” 

For a moment, the two stared at each other. Gerard could feel tension crackling through the air like static. Above them, the clouds roiled, a mirror image of the smoke curling its way around Frank’s arm.

The _magic_ , if Bert was to be believed. 

Then Bert lunged forward, and Gerard could barely follow his movements, they were so fast. Frank was just as quick; the two practically blurred as they fought. All Gerard could see was the smoke raging around them and the blood spattering onto the ground.

They froze, and Bert had his hands clamped around Frank’s head. Blood was dripping down into Frank’s eyes. Then they were moving again, slashing and ripping into each other too quickly for Gerard to see. He felt sick. He had to move, had to get away before either of them thought to turn this violence on _him._ They had been talking about him before, as if he were… He didn’t know. Something valuable. Something dangerous. Gerard wasn’t too keen on sticking around to figure out what they’d meant. He needed to get away while they were distracted.

Then they froze again, and Frank had his hands wrapped around Bert’s throat. 

Bert smirked. Gerard could hardly stand to look at his face; there was something indescribably wrong about it, something too cruel to look upon. But he couldn’t look away.

“The best part is, you never realize just how fucked you are,” Bert whispered. Frank’s grip on him tightened, but his smirk only widened. “Now, now, Frank. Play nice.”

“Fuck you,” said Frank. 

Bert laughed. “You know what, Frankie? I think you’ve found the perfect friend. You two are exactly the sa -” He coughed as Frank squeezed him tighter. “Shit, didn’t I tell you to play nice?” 

“I’ll behave when you do,” Frank growled. He didn’t release his grip on Bert.

Bert sighed. “Then I’m afraid neither of us will ever get anywhere.”

He looked over at Gerard and winked. “Toodles, my friend.” Then he disappeared into a puff of smoke.

Frank stared at his empty hands, a look of fury crossing his face. “No. No, no, _no_ , you son of a _bitch_!” He kicked a rock across the ground, and Gerard would have laughed at how childlike it was if he wasn’t busy being terrified.

Finally, Frank looked up at him. His face was still covered in blood.

“H-hey,” Gerard stammered. “P-please don’t kill me, I -”

“I can’t kill you if you’re already fucking dead, idiot,” said Frank. His voice was tight with anger, but it didn’t seem to be directed at Gerard. After a moment, he ran his fingers through his curly hair and sighed loudly. “Shit, I already fucked this up.” 

“Fucked what up?” Gerard asked timidly.

Frank waved a hand. “This. You. You’re sort of in limbo right now. I’m your escort, I’m supposed to show up and guide you to the correct circle, where you’re meant to be. But then _that_ fucker had to get involved.”

“Oh,” said Gerard. So, the whole death thing was still relevant. 

Oh, fuck everything. This was too crazy for even _his_ imagination to cook up.

“So… I’m dead,” he said. Saying it out loud didn’t feel as weird as he’d expected it to. They were just words. He was still tense, but that was less out of fear of death and more due to the fact that he’d just watched two guys beat the shit out of each other. Death became remarkably less scary once you’d experienced it and come out swinging. “What comes next?”

Frank raised his eyebrows. “What, no shock and disbelief?”

“I’ve been through that part already,” said Gerard.

Frank looked impressed. “That was quick. Good for you, though. Makes my job a hell of a lot easier.” He took a step closer to Gerard. “I’m about to do something weird. It’s just part of the procedure, don’t panic.”

Gerard had barely opened his mouth to ask what he meant when Frank plunged his hand into Gerard’s chest.

He gasped. Oh, that was _so_ not normal. He wasn’t sure what was more disturbing; the fact that Frank’s hand had gone straight through his ribs, or the fact that it didn’t hurt at all. He swallowed hard, and had to look at the ground before he was sick with fear or pure revulsion. His thoughts were a running stream of _what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck_. 

“Um,” he managed. “What the _fuck_ is going on right now?”

Frank didn’t answer. He was staring at his own hand, buried deep in Gerard’s chest, with wide eyes. 

“Oh,” he said. “Well. That is… not what I was expecting.”

“What is it?” Gerard asked, still staring hard at the ground. It was all he could do not to hyperventilate. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Frank said. He yanked his hand out. “We should get moving. Bert isn’t the only dangerous thing around here.”

“That’s what he told me,” Gerard said worriedly. He was almost afraid to ask, but the curiosity was too powerful to be ignored. “What else is there?”

Frank shrugged. “Monsters. Spirits. Souls, like you. Demons, like me and Bert.” 

There was a long pause. 

“Demons,” Gerard said dumbly. 

“That’s what they call us.” Frank tilted his head slightly, his black eyes unblinking. “We’re like… the staff. Some of us are meant to guide souls around. That’s what I do. Some of us are guards, some are torturers, some are witches. And then some just like to wreak havoc.” He scowled. 

Gerard didn’t really know what to say. So far, he had died, been sent to hell, and seen someone walk on air. At this point, he shouldn’t have been surprised by anything.

But… _demons._ Holy shit.

“You’re a demon named Frank,” he said. 

Frank sighed. “Yes. That’s what you want to focus on, of course it is. Come on, dumbfuck, let’s go.”

He turned and began walking away, not looking back to see if Gerard was following. Gerard kept pace a few steps behind him, looking him over as subtly as he could.

A day ago, if someone had asked him to envision a demon, he probably would have launched into some sort of artistic tangent involving horns, wings, and a lot of red marker. But Frank looked very nearly human. The only difference was in the eyes, and maybe the teeth, which were just a bit sharper than they should have been. Otherwise, he just looked like a normal guy. He was short, with curly brown hair and thin, arched eyebrows, and if he wasn’t soaked with blood and also apparently a demon, Gerard would’ve called him good-looking. 

Oh, fuck it all, he was. Admitting it wouldn’t do Gerard any harm; it wasn’t like he had any further to fall. He was in hell. This was exactly the place for sinful thoughts. 

“So,” said Frank, jolting him from his thoughts. He slowed down so he could walk by Gerard’s side. “What’d you do to get sent down here?”

“I have no idea,” Gerard said honestly. 

“Mmm. You sure about that? It’s no use lying to me, y’know.”

“I’m being serious,” said Gerard. “I…” He paused, frowning. “Unless you…”

“Figured it out?” asked Frank, grinning. 

“Do you actually go to hell for being gay?” Gerard asked.

Frank looked at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. 

Gerard flushed. “I’ll take that as a no.”

Frank patted him on the arm. “Don’t worry, the big man doesn’t care if you like it up the ass.” He giggled once more.

Gerard’s cheeks darkened, but the meaning of Frank’s words didn’t escape him. “So… Is there one, then? A…”

“God?” Frank finished. “I’m not the right person to ask, man. Nobody really knows if there’s a devil, I can give you that much, but as for God, you’d have to ask his little minions.”

“Little minions?” Gerard questioned. 

“Angels.”

Gerard’s eyes widened. “There are _angels_?”

Frank nodded. “Yeah. Buncha self-righteous bastards. I’ve never met one in person, and I’d like to keep it that way. They usually stick to their own realm, the Above.”

“Wow.” Gerard went quiet, letting this new information process. There was an afterlife. There were demons and angels. There was an Under, a Middle, and an Above, whatever that meant. “Why don’t you just call them heaven and hell?” he asked. 

“What, the realms?” Frank sighed as he wiped a hand across his face, managing to clear some of the blood from his forehead. “I have to explain this to every soul I’ve ever escorted, I swear… They aren’t heaven and hell, not really. They’re more like… a big mashup. The realms are sustained by belief, so everyone’s individual beliefs about what constitutes the afterlife kind of get thrown into one. Like, if you wander around down here long enough, you could walk into the Greek underworld. That section’s sort of fading, though, since it’s such an outdated concept… But we do have Christian hell, and basically everything else, and then some things that are just our own.”

Gerard nodded, more than a little intrigued. “You said something about circles? Like, circles of hell, _Inferno_ -type shit?”

“Kind of. This place used to be a mess, honestly. Somebody decided we needed to get better organized, though, so we got circles. Depending on your level of sin, you’ll be placed closer to the center. Which brings me back to my question.” Frank looked up at him curiously. “What was your sin?”

“I really don’t know,” Gerard said, frowning. “I mean…” He hadn’t ever done anything really bad, had he? He was generally a pretty nice person, or he tried to be, at least. The only person he regularly harmed was himself.

An uncomfortable feeling settled into the pit of his stomach. 

Maybe he _had_ sinned. 

“I... kind of drink a lot,” he said. “Like, it’s a problem. Maybe. Sort of.”

“Ah, there we go,” said Frank, perking up. “You a party guy?”

Gerard laughed to himself, then stopped, because it really wasn’t something to laugh at. “No, not at all. I’m just… kind of miserable.” He winced. That sounded way more pathetic when he said it out loud. 

Frank looked disappointed. “Fuck. I thought I had you pegged for gluttony there. You can’t really condemn unhealthy coping mechanisms, though - that’s not sin, that’s just bad decision-making. I’m talking murder, theft, betrayal, y’know - the juicy stuff.” He regained some of his previous excitement. “Ooh, did you kill somebody?”

“No!” Gerard said indignantly. “I -”

“Cheat on a partner?” Frank guessed.

“No, never.”

“Hmm… Shit, don’t tell me you were a Trump supporte - wait, nevermind, you’re gay. Sorry.” 

“And I’m a _good person_ ,” Gerard said. 

“You _were_ a good person,” Frank corrected him. “Now you’re just one of the infinite legions of the damned.”

“That doesn’t sound much different from the rest of my life,” Gerard said under his breath.

Frank giggled again. It was a stupid little pot laugh, dumb as fuck, and it should _not_ have made Gerard’s stomach flip. He had to look away as Frank spoke. “Trust me, it’s different. For one thing, you’re gonna have to spend eternity in this shithole, dealing with assholes like me.”

“You’re not so bad,” Gerard said without thinking. Frank raised an eyebrow, and corrected himself. This was a demon he was talking to, after all. “I mean, not compared to Bert. You, uh, saved me from him, and you’re not trying to kill me, so -”

“I can’t kill you if you’re already dead, remember?” said Frank, amused. 

“Yeah,” Gerard mumbled. “Uh… yeah. Still, though.”

“No big deal, man. It’s easy to forget that shit when it still feels like you’re living.” Frank’s eyes narrowed. “But don’t get too comfortable. Everything in this place is out to get you. Trust nothing, not even me. Especially not me. I’m a demon, and just because it’s my job to see you from one place to another without you being harmed doesn’t mean I’m not something to be scared of.”

Gerard nodded cautiously. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Make sure you do. Now,” Frank said abruptly. “I’m serious about this, why the hell are you here? I’m usually so good at guessing sins.” His tone was more joking than before, but there was something else beneath it, something Gerard couldn’t read.

“I still have no idea,” Gerard sighed. “I’ve never done anything terrible, I don’t think. I just hang out with my brother and draw. I’m nothing special.”

“Are you sure about that?” Frank asked, and that odd tone was back.

Gerard looked at Frank, confused, and something like annoyance flashed across his face. He shoved his bloody hands into his pockets and frowned. If Gerard squinted, he thought he could follow the pinpricks of light reflected in Frank’s eyes to gain some sense of where he was looking. 

He was staring at the ground, avoiding Gerard’s gaze. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Gerard asked.

Frank shook his head. “You… no. No, you didn’t.”

They kept walking in silence. Gerard didn’t think much of it. He had way too much to process to try and understand demons, too.

***

Gerard’s feet were starting to go numb. They had been walking for hours, and the landscape hadn’t changed in the slightest. He was pretty sure they’d passed the same boulder three times. 

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?”

Frank huffed. Gerard was pretty sure he rolled his eyes, but not entirely certain; he was still trying to get used to the solid blackness of them. “Yes. I’ve been here for a long time, I know how it works.”

“I feel like we’re going in circles,” Gerard said skeptically.

“That’s ‘cause you’re human. It’s a bit of a geographical loop, yeah, but that doesn’t mean we’re not covering any distance.”

Gerard furrowed his brow. “That… makes no sense.”

Frank laughed. “Things aren’t linear here. Get used to shit not making sense.” 

Gerard sighed. Evidently, he wasn’t going to get any further explanation. “Where are we even going?”

“To see someone,” said Frank. “We’re making a little pit stop on the way to your circle.”

Gerard’s eyes narrowed. “I thought it was your job to take me where I need to go?”

Frank snorted. “What, you itchin’ to get to your eternal punishment?”

“Not really, no.”

“Then quit complaining.” Frank pulled something out of his pocket and stuck it in his mouth - a cigarette. “It doesn’t really matter how long we take, anyway. We’ve got the rest of eternity.” He smiled around his cigarette, and it lit up on its own. Frank blew a cloud of smoke into Gerard’s face - and okay, fuck, that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was - making him cough and step away, feigning annoyance.

“Who are we going to see?” he asked, changing the subject. 

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Why spoil the surprise?” 

“Just making conversation. Doesn’t this place get boring?” Gerard asked, eyeing the desert all around them.

“Limbo does, that’s for sure. It’s more fun in the inner circles. Once you hit the City of Dis, you get the real party,” Frank grinned. “Not such a bad place to get tortured until the end of time, if you ask me.”

“You’re not the one getting tortured, though,” said Gerard.

“True,” Frank conceded. “Torture isn’t so much fun when you’re on the receiving end.” 

Gerard shivered a bit. How Frank could deliver a line like that so casually, he didn’t know. It wouldn’t have been intimidating if he didn’t suspect it was completely genuine. As human as Frank seemed, there was still something dangerous about him, something lurking just beneath the surface. 

Frank didn’t let him dwell on it long. “Hey!” he said brightly. “I think we’re almost there.” He took a step forward and vanished into thin air. Gerard had just begun to process this when he suddenly reappeared, grinning. “Yup! Almost there. Give it another… well, there’s no real way to measure distance down here, but we’re close.”

“Close to _what_?” Gerard asked.

“Close to this,” said Frank, and he grabbed onto Gerard’s hand. The moment they took a step, the scenery around them completely shifted. Frank giggled at Gerard’s dumbfounded expression. “This is the first circle!”

“Woah,” Gerard said, his voice filled with wonder. The desert was gone, replaced by a rough, rocky landscape. The skyline was hidden by a range of jagged mountains. Everything had some sort of red or black tint to it, reminiscent of the previous desert, but it was remarkably different. A few buildings were scattered across the mountains, sitting high on sections of rock that jutted out over the ravines below. 

Frank pointed up to one of the buildings. It was covered in so many flashing lights it almost hurt Gerard’s eyes to look upon. “We’re going up there.”

He hopped up onto the nearest boulder, scaling the side of the hill more quickly than Gerard would have thought possible. Gerard scrambled to follow. His own progress was much slower, but he managed to keep Frank in his line of sight as he made his way up the mountain. 

“Isn’t there some way to do this faster?” he complained. 

“For me, yeah!” Frank called over his shoulder. He vanished again. 

“Motherfucker,” Gerard grumbled. 

Frank reappeared at the door to the building. “Well?” he shouted. “What’s taking you so long?”

“I’m going as fast as I can!” said Gerard, frustrated. He lifted his foot up to the next outcropping, but the second he put his weight on it, it crumbled beneath him. Panic jolted through his body. “Shit!” He slipped about a foot down the slope before a hand was grasping his arm tightly. 

“I never thought you could die twice, but you’re awful keen to prove me wrong,” Frank said wryly. “Come on. I’m supposed to deliver you in one piece.” Gerard clung to him, staring down at the ground far below, and in the blink of an eye, they were standing at the front door of the building. 

“You couldn’t have done that in the first place?” Gerard asked, his voice shakier than he would’ve liked. 

“How was I supposed to know you’re such a shitty climber?” Frank shrugged. “Go on, get inside.”

Gerard realized he was still holding onto Frank’s arm, and let go as quickly as he could. His grip had been so tight, it had left a set of red marks on Frank’s skin. Gerard tried not to feel too bad about it. After all, if Frank had just done his stupid teleporting thing instead of making Gerard climb, he wouldn’t have had to save him. 

Gerard pulled the door to the building open and stepped inside. 

The inside was much smaller than the outside; a cozy, warm space lined with red velvet. There were pictures hanging from the walls, and a plush couch in the corner, but no doors. It looked like there was only one room… but that was impossible. 

Gerard stepped back outside and looked at the building closely, then at Frank, who was blowing smoke rings with a deceptively blank expression. 

“Okay, what the fuck?” said Gerard. 

“What?” said Frank innocently.

“Why is there a whole building out here and just one room on the inside?” Gerard demanded. “What is this, some reverse _Doctor Who_ bullshit?”

Frank smirked. “You _really_ should be learning to expect the unexpected. What’s a bit of magic in a place like this?”

“Magic,” Gerard said with a sigh. “Right. How do I keep forgetting?” He peered back inside the room, looking it over more closely this time. “I thought you said we were going to see someone? There’s nobody here.”

“Sit on the couch,” said Frank. “He likes people to wait for him.”

Gerard eyed the little couch dubiously, but went over and sat down. Frank followed him inside and leaned against the wall beside him. “Give it a sec,” he said. “He’ll want to make a grand entrance.”

And sure enough, a moment later, there was a _pop_ , and a man appeared in the center of the room with his hands held high.

“Welcome,” he declared, “To the House of Memories!”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it,” Frank said impatiently. “I need a favor. You in business?”

The man sighed, lowering his hands. “You take the fun out of everything.”

“But you’ll deal with me, yeah?”

“‘Course I will, as long as you pay.” The man snapped his fingers, and a bottle of beer appeared in his hand. His eyes raked over Gerard as he took a sip. They were dark as obsidian. Gerard guessed he was another demon. “Who’s your new boy toy?”

“This is Gerard. Gerard, that’s Brendon. Brendon’s going to do me a quick favor, and then we’re getting the hell out of here,” said Frank.

Brendon looked disappointed. “What’s the rush?”

“I don’t want to have to deal with this any longer than I have to,” Frank said, casting a not-so-subtle glance toward Gerard. 

Brendon raised an eyebrow. “Mmm. It’s not every day one sees you getting so worked up over a delivery. What’s the catch?”

“The catch,” Frank sighed, “Is his soul. Check it out.”

Brendon gave Gerard an appraising look as he passed his beer to Frank. “All right.” He took a step closer to Gerard. “What’s so weird about it?” he asked, staring intently into Gerard’s eyes, but addressing Frank.

“Just look,” said Frank.

Brendon hummed thoughtfully, and Gerard got a hand shoved into his chest for the second time that day.

“Wh - oh, shit,” he gasped. This was _never_ going to stop being weird. Luckily, Brendon withdrew his hand much more quickly than Frank had, looking stunned. 

“How the hell did you pick him up?” he demanded, whirling around to face Frank. “This is - what the _fuck_?”

“I know,” Frank said heavily. “I tried to see if there was some sort of mix-up, like, maybe he actually _did_ commit some crime, but that's obviously not the case. I don’t know what to do. He was with Bert when I found him.”

Gerard blinked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I don’t think I’m following.”

Brendon acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “Bert?” he asked, giving Frank a shrewd look. “You think he has something to do with it?”

“What, and you don’t?” Frank fired back.

“Maybe, maybe not. But man, if I were you, I’d just drop the kid in the Fields of Asphodel and be done with it. Something like this doesn’t just _happen_.”

“Exactly,” said Frank. “I want to know what the fuck Bert thinks he’s playing at. Normally, I don’t give a shit what he does, but the second he brought it onto my turf, he made it my business, and that makes it my job to kick his ass. I think I’m gonna take him to management or something, I dunno.” That last sentence was about Gerard, it had to have been. 

“Can someone _please_ tell me what’s going on?” Gerard pleaded. “What’s wrong?”

Brendon eyed him thoughtfully. “I think the question is what _isn’t_ , babe.”

“That doesn’t answer anything.”

“The problem,” said Frank, “Is that you’re not supposed to _be_ here.”

“That doesn’t answer anything either!” Gerard protested. 

“Really? I don’t know how to make it any more clear,” Frank snapped. “Your name’s not on the list, dude. You weren’t supposed to die, and you definitely weren’t supposed to end up here. If you’re _damned_ , you go _down_ ; if you’re _blessed_ , you go _up._ That’s how it works. There are rules in this place, and people follow them for a reason. It’s… It’s not even _possible_ to break them.”

“I’ve never heard of a blessed soul showing up in Limbo,” Brendon murmured.

Gerard’s mind whirled. “I… Blessed? What?”

“You aren’t supposed to be dead,” said Frank. “And if you were, you would go to heaven. Your soul’s pure.”

Gerard was nearly speechless. “I - I’m not supposed to be dead? _What_?” 

“‘Fraid not, kiddo,” Brendon said sympathetically. “Not that there’s much to be done about it… The Under isn’t such a bad place, once you spend enough time here. You’ll learn to love it.” He glanced over at Frank, and the two held eye contact for a second before giggling in unison. “Just kidding,” said Brendon. “This place sucks balls, ‘specially if you’re human. But who knows? Maybe being blessed gives you a higher pain tolerance.”

“Really, though,” Frank interjected. “What should I do with him?”

The two chattered back and forth, but after a while, their words all started to blend together. Gerard could think of one thing, and one thing only: he was meant to be alive. He was meant to be back with Mikey. If his fate hadn’t been interrupted, he’d be back on his couch at home, probably nursing a wicked hangover, but otherwise safe. 

“Yeah,” Frank was saying. “But we need to know _why_.”

“Hold on, I’ll get the stuff,” said Brendon, and he blinked out of sight. That brought Gerard back to himself.

“Wait, what’s going on?” he asked. 

“Magic,” Frank said cheerfully. 

“Um… Care to elaborate?”

“Brendon specializes in psychic magic,” Frank explained. “Sometimes when people die, they forget how it happened. The transfer into the afterlife fucks them up. But if they come here, Brendon can help them remember.” He made a face. “Why anybody would want to remember something like that, I don’t know, but hey, humans are crazy.”

“The House of Memories,” Gerard recalled. “So… You think that if I remember how I died, it’ll help us figure out how I got sent here.”

“Yup,” Frank nodded. “Plus, we need proof that this wasn’t my fault. I might take you to the higher-ups if I can’t figure out what to do with you on my own, but I don’t want it coming down on my ass if they get pissed.”

“Oh. Cool.” Gerard mentally chided himself for being even remotely surprised. Frank was a demon; he wasn’t trying to help Gerard out of the goodness of his heart. He just cared about saving his own skin. 

Brendon reappeared holding a board, several bowls, and what Gerard really hoped wasn’t a jar of blood. “You ever do a ritual before?” he asked. Gerard shook his head. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.” Brendon smiled and set the board on the floor, positioning the bowls over a set of sigils that seemed to be burned into the wood. He unscrewed the lid from the jar, dipping his fingers in, and Gerard winced. Yeah, there was no way that wasn’t blood.

“So, what we’re gonna do is this,” said Brendon, his eyes narrowing with concentration as he painted a symbol onto the board. “I’m gonna do a little spell to open your mind. Once your walls are down, I’ll pop into your head and do some quick digging. Then we can try and make sense of what I find. Sound good?” He smiled up at Gerard.

Gerard looked at him incredulously. “Um, no? I’m not gonna let a demon poke around in my brain!”

Frank smirked. “Ah, somebody’s smart.”

Gerard frowned. “That was, like, the most untrustworthy thing you possibly could have said just now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Frank pursed his lips, looking thoughtful, then nodded, as if coming to a decision. “Okay. Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought. Let me teach you something about the Under, Gerard, it’ll help you out.”

“ _Fra-_ ank,” Brendon whined. “Come on, you’re ruining it!”

“You wouldn’t be able to do anything to him anyway,” Frank scolded. “He’s _blessed_ , Brendon. What do you think’ll happen to you if anyone finds out you fucked him up worse than he already was?”

“I don’t think the higher-ups would really care,” Brendon said skeptically. 

“Well, I’m not taking that risk. You’re not hurting him, end of story.” Frank turned back to Gerard. “Gimme your arm. I’m gonna show you how to make a contract.”

“A contract?” Gerard said warily.

“You’ve mastered the art of mimicry, congratulations. Now give me your goddamn arm,” Frank said impatiently. “You’re gonna have to do this every time you ask someone for a favor. If you don’t, they’ll double-cross you and leave you bleeding in a ditch before you can say _stupid_. You might as well learn the skill now.”

Brendon sighed. “Did you _really_ need to tell him about this?”

“Yes,” said Gerard, glaring at Brendon. 

“He’s under my watch until I can get him where he needs to be,” said Frank, a hint of warning in his tone. “It’s a necessary precaution.”

He and Brendon stared at each other, a silent argument filling the air between them. Frank must have won, because after a minute, Brendon sighed. “Fine. Just do it.”

Frank grinned. He grabbed Gerard’s hand, then Brendon’s, and brought them together. Gerard reluctantly allowed their fingers to intertwine. Frank muttered something in a language that wasn’t English, and for a split second, Gerard’s palm burned red-hot. He tried to jerk his hand away, but Frank held him in place. The moment his grip relaxed, Gerard shook himself free and stared at his own hand, which looked unharmed. “What the hell was that?”

“It’s part of the contract,” Brendon said sulkily. “It’ll bind me to my word.”

“We’re not done yet,” said Frank. “Now you need to state your intentions. What do you want to get out of this?”

“I… I want to find out how I died, I guess?” said Gerard, still preoccupied with looking at his hand. It didn’t _look_ hurt, but he could still feel the echo of the pain that had burned across it.

Frank nodded. “Good. Brendon, you do the same.”

“I’m going to retrieve Gerard’s memories,” Brendon muttered. “But you and me are _so_ making a second deal after this, I want payback.”

“Obviously,” said Frank. “Now, state your limitations.”

“I will not harm Gerard in any way during this ritual,” Brendon recited. “I will not go beyond my intended purpose.”

Frank gave him a look. “And?”

Brendon scowled. “I will not harm Gerard in any way, before _or_ after this ritual.”

“That’s better. Now, shake hands again.”

Gerard reluctantly took Brendon’s hand and shook it. This time, there was no pain, just Brendon’s hand gripping his.

“The contract is binding,” Frank said solemnly.

Brendon pulled his hand away. “Sweet. Now we can get to the good stuff.” 

He knelt down before the board, motioning for Gerard to do the same. A match appeared in his hand. He lit the candles and closed his eyes, humming softly to himself. As the melody hung on the air, the atmosphere shifted. The walls pressed in around them, and the lights dimmed and faded into darkness. The candles filled the room with a flickering glow. Gerard watched with fascination as Brendon lifted his hands, crossing them over his chest. He was speaking now, murmuring unfamiliar words in a low voice, each syllable radiating a dark sense of power. Gerard couldn't look away. 

The candles sent wavering shadows across Brendon’s face. He opened his eyes, and the flames were reflected in them. They were so dark they seemed endless. Gerard stared into them, transfixed. 

Brendon reached out and touched his fingers to Gerard’s temples, and Gerard felt himself slipping away.

***

_Surrounding him was a darkness deeper than he had ever known. It was devoid of all light, all sensation. The silence pounded into his eardrums. The only sound was that of his own shallow breathing. There was solid ground beneath his feet, but no matter which way he turned, he could see nothing. He took a few steps, then stopped. Being unable to see where he was going was deeply disconcerting._

_But he wasn't afraid. Something about the void around him felt familiar, just enough for him to keep calm._

_”Gerard?” a voice called. He knew that voice._

_”Mikey?” he tried to ask, but he couldn’t make a sound. “Mikey, is that you?”_

_”Gerard, where are you?”_

***

“Gerard!” Someone was shaking his arm. “Wake up!”

Gerard’s eyelids felt heavy, too heavy to lift. Maybe if he just kept them closed, he could stay in the darkness a moment longer.

“Wake up or I’ll hit you,” a voice ordered.

Gerard opened his eyes. Frank was leaning over him with his hair falling into his face, his expression conveying something close to worry. The second he noticed Gerard was awake, he pulled back. “Brendon, he's up!” he called over his shoulder.

“Good! Took him long enough.” Gerard heard Brendon’s footsteps before he saw him. “Hey, man. You good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” said Gerard. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. The board was gone, but the scent of smoke lingered on the air. “What happened?”

“We opened your mind,” Brendon said cheerfully. “You should be able to remember your death now. Give it a shot!”

Gerard’s brow furrowed as he thought back. His head felt clearer than before, somehow. A picture slowly began to take shape in his mind.

“I was at home,” he said, narrating the memories as they formed. “I was drunk. I was waiting for my brother to get home… I went outside, and I felt someone there, and then…” He swallowed and touched a hand to his neck. “Then I was dead.”

Brendon nodded. “Got yourself a real nice Colombian necktie. As for who gave it to you…”

“Is that really a question?” Frank muttered. “There’s no way a human could’ve snuck up behind him that quickly.”

“There’s no guarantee it was Bert, though,” said Brendon. “Judging from what I saw in Gerard’s memories, it could have been any demon.”

“But it was definitely _a_ demon,” Frank stressed. “No one else could drag him down into the Under.” He tapped a finger to his chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Now, let's see, who do we know who loves to fuck around with me and hates humanity?” He scowled and dropped his hand. “I don't know about you, but only one person is coming to mind.”

Brendon sighed. “Okay, so maybe the evidence is incriminating. But think about it, dude. He hates going to the Middle. Don't you think that if he wanted to fuck with you, he'd find a way to do it that required less effort?”

“No, I don't,” Frank said stubbornly. “Don't tell me you don't see his sense of humor in this.”

“What do you mean?”

Frank scoffed. “A blessed soul. He brought a _blessed soul_ to the _Under_. That's a little too ironic to be a coincidence, don't you think?”

“Ohhh,” said Brendon, nodding with understanding. “I see. Well…” He smirked. “You’ve gotta admit, that’s a _little_ funny.”

Frank had clearly been on edge ever since he had introduced Gerard to Brendon, but now he looked genuinely pissed off. “Shut your fucking mouth, or I’ll do it for you,” he snapped, glaring at Brendon, who just laughed.

“You’re so tense! Just relax, dude. Maybe it was Bert, maybe it wasn’t. It doesn't really matter. All you have to do is get Gerard out of here, and presto! This is all behind you,” he said. 

“I'd like to believe it's that simple,” Frank muttered. His hand brushed against Gerard’s, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Well, thanks anyway. I'll pay you back soon.”

“No problem!” said Brendon. He gave a little wave to Gerard. “Hope to see you later, Gerard. Take care of Frank.” He winked, and like that, he was gone. 

“That’s our cue to leave,” Frank said. He turned to the door, and his fingers curled around Gerard’s hand. A tiny flicker of pain shot across his palm once more, like an aftershock. Gerard winced. Frank let him go at once.

“Sorry about that,” he said apologetically. “Contracts tend to hurt more at first. You get used to it, though. I probably should’ve warned you, but…”

“I wouldn’t have let you do it if I’d seen it coming,” Gerard supplied. “Yeah, you told me. It’s okay.”

“You really do need to be careful who you trust around here. Every word, every action can put you at someone else’s mercy, and that’s never a good thing,” said Frank. He closed the door behind them with a soft _click_.

Gerard looked out over the mountains. The sharp stones were intimidating enough on their own without thinking of what could be lurking within them. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Frank taking in the view as well, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“This didn’t answer nearly as many questions as I’d hoped it would,” he said. 

Gerard hummed in agreement. “For me, it just raised more. There are things it hadn’t even occurred to me to wonder about…” He bit his lip. “Is this place really so dangerous?”

“Definitely,” Frank said quietly. “If you were damned, that’d be one level of danger, but being a blessed soul in the Under is going to fucking suck. You’re gonna have to be really careful.”

“I still don’t understand most of what’s going on,” Gerard admitted. “I don’t even know what I should be scared of.”

Frank shrugged. “Everything.”

For a moment, they stood in silence.

Gerard was the first to break it. “So, where do we go from here?” he asked. 

Frank considered this for a moment. “Well… I think we try to get you out. Souls aren’t supposed to return to the Middle after they die, but you’re kind of a special case.” 

Gerard frowned. “You’re saying I could go back? How is that even possible?”

Frank sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I was so hoping to skip this conversation for once,” he muttered, then raised his voice to address Gerard. “Okay, so, death isn’t really an _ending_ so much as a relocation. Hypothetically, any soul in the Under or the Above could travel back to the Middle and keep on living. But that’s not allowed. Demons and angels exist to keep that from happening, among other purposes. It’s never been done before.”

“But I’m a special case,” said Gerard. 

Frank nodded. “That you are.”

“So… I can go home?”

“If we’re lucky. It’s gonna be difficult,” said Frank. “But, yeah. I guess that’s the plan.”

“You’re not taking me to management or anything?”

Frank shook his head. “Nah. I they knew you were here, they wouldn’t let you leave.” He smiled. “We’re on a stealth mission now.”

Gerard smiled, tentatively at first, but then it grew, and he was beaming at Frank as the relief and gratitude hit him. This would all be over soon. In the blink of an eye, it would be in the past, like a bad dream he could look back on with the security of knowing it was over. 

He was going home.

***

Gerard had passed tired hours ago. Now, he was somewhere beyond exhausted. He found himself tripping over stones, just barely able to right himself before he fell on his face. His feet dragged against the ground. If he didn’t take a break soon, he was probably going to end up passing out.

“Frank,” he said, fighting through the haze of tiredness to make his voice heard. “How long have we been walking?”

Frank hopped over a rock, looking every bit as lively as he had when they started walking. “I dunno. Space isn’t the only thing that’s weird here. Time’s just as bad. I think it’s been… Well, in the Middle, I think it’s been a few days, but for us, maybe half a day?”

Gerard was too tired to even think about the information Frank had just given him. “I need to rest for a bit. I’m gonna fall over and crack my head open if I keep going like this.”

Frank smirked, shaking his head slightly. “No can do. You shouldn’t sleep in the Under.”

Gerard stopped. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t sleep,” said Frank. “It makes you really fucking vulnerable. I might be babysitting you for a while, but I’m not gonna get my throat ripped out for your sake if someone decides they want to get to you.”

Gerard sat down on a nearby rock and put his face in his hands. “Great. What am I supposed to do, then?”

“Keep going.”

“Until when? Do we even have a destination?”

Frank nodded. “The ninth circle. You have to be a pretty damn powerful demon in order to travel between the realms, so all the portals are in the most powerful place. That’s where we’re going.”

Gerard sighed. “How far away is it?”

Frank grinned. “Well, we’re in the first circle now, if that gives you any perspective.”

Gerard let out a weak noise. “Oh, God.”

“He ain’t gonna help you,” Frank said cheerfully. He prodded Gerard’s side with his foot. “C’mon, Gee. Can I call you Gee? We’ve got places to go, man, hop to it.”

Gerard didn’t move. Standing up felt like getting out of bed after being awake all night. He was tempted to bargain for a few more minutes, but knew that if he did, he’d ever end up moving. His limbs were just so _heavy._

“Come on,” Frank coaxed. “You can do it. The faster we keep moving, the faster you get out of this place.”

Gerard groaned.

“Did I mention we’re being followed?” Frank said.

Gerard’s eyes flew open. “What? No! By who?”

Frank shrugged. “Harpies, goblins, hellhounds, who knows? Nothing good, though, that’s for sure.”

Gerard paled. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope.”

“But they wouldn’t… They wouldn’t _hurt_ me, right?” The second it left his mouth, he knew how stupid it sounded, but Frank had already snorted with laughter. 

“What, you think they just want a piece of your ass? It’s a nice ass, I’ll admit, but I’m pretty sure they’re more interested in your head on a pike. They’re not gonna let you walk by unscathed.”

Gerard suddenly felt much less tired.

Frank patted him on the back as he pushed himself up. “There you go! Now, let’s move it!” He sprung away. How he managed to keep walking with a bounce in his step, Gerard didn’t know, but he was sorely envious.

***

Frank was something of a chatterbox, but even he couldn’t keep running his mouth for the whole journey. Eventually, he fell silent, slowing his pace to keep by Gerard’s side. It was strangely comforting. Gerard tripped a few times, but Frank always caught him, pushing him back up with a smirk. 

They had recently passed through one range of mountains to be confronted with another. It made Gerard’s head swim just to look at them. He was overtired enough to get some of his energy back, but the seemingly endless journey ahead of him was incredibly daunting. 

Frank didn’t seem to mind it, but then again, he actually knew where they were going, and, if necessary, had the ability to fucking _teleport_ there. 

“How do I get freaky powers like you?” Gerard mumbled. 

“Which are you talking about?” Frank asked lightly. “I’ve got tons.”

“The teleportation thingy.”

“Oh, that. Sorry, man, but you’ve gotta be a demon for that one.”

Gerard made a noise of displeasure. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” said Frank. “And don’t get any ideas, demonic status is determined by your sins while you’re _alive_. Once you’re dead, there’s nothing you can do to change it.” He paused. “Well… Almost nothing. But you’re blessed, so it’s super unlikely that you’d ever get picked.”

“What if I just want the one power? I don’t care about the rest, I just don’t want to walk anymore,” Gerard whined. 

He knew that probably wasn’t possible, but he needed some way to complain. Not everyone had sinned enough in their life to get special powers after they died. Not everyone was lucky. His logic was a little twisted from sleep deprivation, but that sounded like a sweet deal. 

Something clicked into place in his head.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “Sins are determined while you’re… Were you human?”

Frank snorted. “It’s not obvious? What, you think demons just spring out of nowhere?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really think about it,” Gerard said, surprised. “So, you were a regular human, once?”

“Yeah.” Frank went quiet. Gerard waited for him to say something more, but he didn’t. That was a first. Whenever silence fell between them, Frank always seemed to get the last word. He always had some sort of comeback. Gerard had never known him to voluntarily shut his mouth.

Gerard knew he shouldn’t ask, but curiosity had wriggled its way into his mind. “What did you do to end up -”

“So,” Frank said brightly. “You wanna hear an embarrassing story about Brendon?”

Gerard nodded, slightly abashed. He mentally scolded himself. In hindsight, it didn’t seem like such a good idea to ask a demon overly personal questions. But he wouldn’t have been so eager to ask if Frank wasn’t the only person he could talk to. They had to make conversation somehow. 

“Well, the thing is, Brendon’s about as subtle as an anvil when it comes to picking people up. His idea of flirtation is ‘nice ass, wanna fuck?’” Frank giggled. “Usually, that’s not a problem, but certain people in the deeper circles don’t take too kindly to it. They’re too busy jamming pokers into people’s eyes or whatever it is they get up to. So, Brendon walks up to this succubus chick, right? And he thinks he’s…” 

His voice trailed off. 

“Don’t stop, that was just getting interesting,” said Gerard.

“Shut up,” Frank said distractedly. “Just stop talking for a minute, I smell something.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “You…” Frank gave him a look, and he decided not to finish his sentence. 

Frank turned in a circle, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration as he scanned the area around them. “Something’s coming,” he murmured. 

Gerard’s heart skipped a beat. “The same thing from before? The one that was following us?”

Frank nodded. “Not too powerful, but…” His gaze landed on some point in the distance, and he froze. “But bad news!” He grabbed onto Gerard’s arm with one hand, a ball of smoke forming in the other. “Stand back, Gee, they’re gonna be after you.”

“Me?” said Gerard, alarmed. “Wait, who’s ‘they?’”

“Goblins,” Frank said grimly. “Just… don’t watch, okay?”

In the shadows between a pair of nearby boulders, Gerard caught a glimpse of gleaming red eyes. 

“Back off, motherfuckers,” Frank growled. “This one’s mine.”

There was a chorus of screeching, like nails grating on a chalkboard. Frank shoved Gerard behind him, the smoke in his hands solidifying into twin blades, dark and wickedly sharp. “I said, back off!” he shouted. 

For a moment, everything was still. 

Then a horde of screaming, twisted creatures swarmed around them, and Gerard forgot how to breathe. One snatched at his shirt, but Frank knocked it away. They were lightning quick, but Frank was faster, slashing at any that dared approach them. Gerard could barely follow the creatures’ movements. He could only see their gaping mouths, full of needle-like teeth, and the claws that threatened to rip him in two. 

Frank’s knives cut their way through the group until the ground was soaked with dark blood. The remaining goblins shrieked back and forth to each other, but the noise wasn’t as cacophonous as before. Their clawing to reach Gerard was less insistent. 

Gerard saw them turn to flee, but Frank sent a sharp jet of smoke through each of their backs. They dropped to the ground. 

Gerard dimly realized he was shaking.

“Piece of cake,” Frank said easily, his blades dissolving and vanishing. He glanced over at Gerard, and instantly darted over, looking concerned. “Shit, are you okay? Don’t tell me they sucked your soul out while I wasn’t looking.”

“I’m fine,” Gerard said, willing his hands to stop trembling. “That was... probably the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen, though.”

Frank smiled. “Tell me about it.” He placed his hand on Gerard’s, turning it over and letting out a hiss of surprise. “Oh, shit. No wonder you’re shell-shocked, dude, you’ve got blood on you.”

“What?” Gerard looked down at his palm. A dark spot was slowly seeping across it, a dull burning sensation igniting his skin wherever it touched. 

“Goblin blood, it’s corrosive,” Frank muttered. “We should move. Things ‘round here can smell weakness, and right now, you’re looking pretty damn pathetic. Follow me. And don’t fall too far behind.” He hopped over the nearest rock, immediately cutting a path through the landscape. Gerard followed more falteringly. His limbs were beginning to feel numb, but he couldn’t tell if it was from adrenaline, exhaustion, or the fire sweeping across his palm. 

When he collapsed, he barely even noticed.

***

_Beyond earth, beyond stars, the darkness was home. It was the deepest truth he had ever known. When all else failed, the void was a constant presence, there to welcome him into its arms._

_”Gerard! Gerard, where are you?”_

_Gerard could barely move. Every time he tried to take a step forward, it was like walking through molasses. His feet dragged in slow motion. Speaking was a lost cause; any attempt to shout was lost to the vacuum, the darkness rushing into his throat and choking him._

_”Gerard!” Mikey’s voice called once more._

_Gerard closed his eyes. It made no difference to the blackness all around him. He was trapped beyond the help of sight or motion, with a cold, helpless feeling sinking into his chest._

_”Gee?”_

***

The first thing Gerard registered was something small and smelly weighing down on his chest. 

Then a wet tongue slurped across his cheek, and his eyes snapped open. 

There was a small creature sitting on him. It looked like what would happen if someone tried to make a dog, but had no clue what dogs actually looked like. It snuffled at his hair, then resumed licking his face, its gray fur scratching at his cheeks. Gerard was more than a little bemused. He gave it a small shove in an effort to move it away. 

“Sweet Pea!” a voice scolded. “What did I say? No kisses!” The dog-thing was abruptly scooped off of him and into a woman’s arms. Gerard startled and looked up. He hadn’t even noticed her.

She hugged the dog and gave it a little shake before she set it down, prodding its behind with her toe. “Go on, go to Frankie.” It made a small whuffling noise and waddled out of the room. Gerard stared after it, unsure of where he should even begin asking questions. The woman smiled at him. “That there’s the dumbest hellhound you’ll ever meet,” she said by way of explanation. “The smallest, too. Sorry if she woke you up.”

Gerard didn’t feel any less confused. 

He realized after a beat that he was still lying on the floor. He wasn’t sure where; he didn’t recognize the room. It was cluttered as hell; there were shelves stuffed with jars and well-worn books, patterned cloths hanging from most surfaces, and, in the corner, a small jar that puffed clouds of incense. He got the sense each object had a specific purpose, but he had no idea what that purpose was.

“Frank!” the woman yelled over her shoulder. “Get in here, he’s awake!”

A moment later, Frank pushed his way through a curtain. The hellhound, Sweet Pea, was nestled in his arms, her tongue poking slightly out of her mouth. “Gerard!” he said, relieved. “Thank fuck. I thought you were gonna go into a coma or something.” 

Gerard raised his eyebrows. “Is that possible?” 

Frank laughed. “You might not be able to die down here, but you can get hurt pretty badly. How’s that hand?”

Gerard looked down at his palm. A purple gel had been slathered over it, and the black spot had disappeared. “Fine, I think.” He looked up at the ball of wiry fur in Frank’s arms. “So, you have a dog,” he said. 

Frank beamed. “Hellhound, but - yeah! Isn’t she the best?” He kissed the top of her head, and Gerard felt himself grin. It wasn’t the most demonic thing he’d ever seen; in fact, it was leaning dangerously close to adorable. “Lindsey takes care of her when I’m busy. She likes it here. Plus, she stinks less when she’s around all these herbs -”

He was interrupted as the curtain ruffled once more, and a man with bright pink hair popped his head inside. “Finally! You took for-fucking- _ever_ to wake up!” he complained. A hand shoved him to the side, and a woman swept into the room, her hands busy tying her hair into pigtails. 

“You dreamt,” she said, eyeing Gerard with interest. “What did you dream about?”

“Wait, he _what_?” said Frank. “You didn’t say anything about dreams!”

“Because I knew you’d ask too many questions if I did,” the woman said with a wry smile. “I wanted him awake for this part. So,” she said, turning to Gerard, “What exactly did you dream about?”

Gerard blinked. As usual, things were moving much too quickly for him to follow. He figured it would be best to just answer her question and try to catch up on the go. He closed his eyes, trying to recapture the feeling of the dream before it slipped away. “It was dark… And I could hear my brother. That was it, I think.”

The woman nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting. It’s not often people have dreams in the Under, much less pleasant ones.” Gerard wasn’t sure if his dream had qualified as _pleasant_ , but she was already moving on. “I’m Lindsey, by the way. That’s Kitty,” she said, pointing to the girl on the stool, “And Jimmy.” She pointed to the man with pink hair. 

“Steve’s out getting groceries,” Jimmy added. “He’ll be back soon.”

“Then we’ll be able to move on to the next step,” Lindsey said with a nod.

Frank nudged Gerard. “These guys are gonna fix you up with some protection magic. Nothing special, just enough to get you across the Under without something eating your soul.”

“Or some _one_ ,” Jimmy mused. 

Gerard really needed to get used to the amount of casual violence demons brought up. 

“I don’t know how either of you got into this mess,” Jimmy went on, giving pointed looks to both Gerard and Frank, “And it’s _so_ not a good idea for us to get involved, but what can I say?” He grinned at Gerard. “You’re blessed with a pretty soul and a prettier face.”

“Linds!” a voice called from the back room. “I got your stuff, where’s the kid?”

“Awake!” Lindsey called back. “C’mon in, Steve, we’re almost ready!”

A man pushed through the curtain, his arms laden down with supplies. “Althea root,” he said, shifting one of the jars so Lindsey could see it, “And bay, but the stock’s running low for that one.”

“How can it be running low?” Kitty asked. “It’s been ages since she’s done a protection spell.”

“Yeah, you’ll probably have to wipe the dust off your talismans,” Jimmy agreed. 

Lindsey frowned at them. “Just because I don’t always use my shit for protection doesn’t mean I don’t use it. You know better than to assume an ingredient can only be used in one type of spell.”

“I know, I’m just making fun of you,” Kitty said cheerfully. 

“And with good reason,” Jimmy said brightly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten how to work positive magic!”

“There isn’t usually much call for it,” Lindsey muttered, lifting a box from Steve’s arms and setting it on the ground so she could rifle through the contents. Gerard counted at least six jars, all containing various liquids or pickled substances; a pile of pendants tangled together by their strings; several sachets; and something that smelled strongly of citronella. He had no idea what it was all for, but it seemed to make perfect sense to Lindsey. She sorted through the ingredients with a businesslike air, setting aside all those she didn’t need, then turned to Gerard. 

“How much experience do you have with spellwork?”

Gerard looked uncertainly to Frank. “I met a guy named Brendon -”

“Ugh, I’ll count that as ‘none.’”

“Oh, come on,” Frank objected. “We can’t all be high-tier like you, Lindsey. Just because he works in the first circle doesn’t mean you’re any better than him.”

“I’m not saying I’m better than him,” Lindsey said mildly. “I’m just saying that my _magic_ is. He can’t be mad at me for calling his practice parlor tricks when that’s how he treats it himself. Have you even seen his shop?”

“You’re only a fifth-tier,” Frank reminded her. “You talk big, but there are plenty of people more powerful than you.”

“And plenty of people less. Your point?”

Frank sighed. “My _original_ point was that Gerard does have a bit of experience with spells. Now, go on.”

Lindsey beckoned Gerard closer, holding up a pendant. “C’mere, I need to put this on you.”

“Ah ah ah,” Frank said sternly. “Pact first.”

She threw him an annoyed look. “He knows about that? Jeez, did you go and tell him how _everything_ works?”

“Not everything. I’m just trying to get him to the ninth circle without getting eaten alive, and that means I can’t let some low-tier creep screw him over.”

Lindsey sighed. “If you insist.” She held out her hand, and Gerard took it warily. This time it was her, not Frank, who murmured the incantation, and Gerard braced himself before the shock of pain ripped through his hand.

“Now you have to say what you want,” Frank said helpfully. 

“I…” Gerard frowned. “What _do_ I want? You didn’t really say what this was for.”

“You want to be protected in all circles of the Under from all psychic harm,” Frank said promptly. 

Gerard repeated his statement, and Lindsey swore not to harm or double-cross him before chanting something in a low voice and releasing his arm. She then repeated the process with Frank, negotiating payback and terms of service. 

“Can I actually do my fucking work now?” she asked once they had finished. 

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Lindsey looped a pendant around Gerard’s neck. He lifted it curiously, examining the carved surface, but she batted his hand away. “Don’t look at it too long, it’ll burn your eyes.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, alarmed. “Why am I wearing it if it’ll hurt me?”

“It’s an amplifier of sorts, to make the spell stronger.” Lindsey lit a row of candles with a flick of her finger, arranging them in an oval between herself and Gerard. Each one had a different symbol etched into it. The flames danced, but unlike in Brendon’s shop, they didn’t make the rest of the room seem darker. They just gave off a warm glow, illuminating the small dishes that Lindsey was arranging. 

“Fuck - Steve, you forgot the lapis lazuli,” she complained. 

“I didn’t think you’d need it. I gave you amethyst, what more do you want from me?” Steve said defensively. 

“He needs heightened awareness to go along with the general protection,” Lindsey said patiently. “Kitty, can you grab the lapis?”

“On it!” Kitty chirped. She hopped up from her stool and dashed out of the room. A moment later, she reappeared with her hands cupped around something and dumped a small pile of blue stones into one of Lindsey’s bowls. Lindsey made a noise of approval and reached into one of her many jars, sprinkling a dark powder over each bowl. Gerard watched with unbridled curiosity. 

“Interested in the dark arts, hm?” Lindsey said, not looking up from her work. 

Gerard shrugged. “I guess. I mean, how could I not be? Everything in this place is… fascinating. It’s surreal.” Lindsey’s work was too cool-looking for Gerard to deny his interest.

Lindsey smiled. “You’d be surprised at how few people react that way. Most humans are too scared to be curious.” 

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” Gerard murmured, eyeing the jar of tiny bones in Lindsey’s pile of supplies. 

Lindsey threw her head back and laughed. “Ooh, smart! Does that mean you’re scared, then?”

“Yes,” he said truthfully. “I’d have to be crazy not to be.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Lindsey eyed him thoughtfully. “You know, you’re not what I expected you to be. Your soul’s as pure as they come… The moment I saw it, I thought I had you figured out. Thought you’d be one of those do-gooders the Above always collectively shits itself over. But you’re odd, Gerard. You’ve got potential, I think. Ever consider taking up witchcraft?”

“I, um,” Gerard stammered. “No?”

Lindsey gave him an amused look, as if he were a small puppy that had just done something particularly stupid. Frank giggled. “Quit it, you’ll give him an existential crisis.”

“Everybody has existential crises in the Under,” Lindsey said dismissively. “It’s part of the experience. What do you say, kid? Think you’d like to try your hand at spellwork? If Frank decides you’re not worth his time, I’ll snatch you up.”

“Not if I don’t get there first,” Jimmy piped up. 

“This could come to a bidding war,” said Kitty.

“All right, cut it out,” Frank said crossly. “He’s not up for sale.”

“But he’d be so fun to experiment on,” Jimmy whined. “I’ve never had a blessed soul to work with, it’d -”

“I said no,” Frank said sharply. 

Lindsey raised her hands in defeat. “Okay, okay. Guess our little coven’s stuck at four, then.”

“That’s already above the average number,” Frank muttered. 

“We’re special enough to warrant an exception,” Lindsey said with a wink. She took hold of Gerard’s hand, a small brush appearing in her free hand. “Such a shame Frank’s got a stick up his ass,” she said, smirking up at Gerard through her bangs. “I think I might even like you better than him.” She painted a symbol onto Gerard’s skin with something that tingled too much to be normal ink as Frank glared at her from the sidelines. 

“I think we’re almost done,” she said once the sigil on Gerard’s hand had dried. “You ready?” Gerard nodded. “All right, then.” 

Jimmy, Kitty, and Steve grew closer, forming a semicircle around Lindsey and Gerard. Lindsey placed Gerard’s hands palm up, resting her own above them. She closed her eyes and began to sway softly back and forth. 

When she opened her mouth, the language she spoke was clearly not of human origin. Gerard had heard it before, in the few spells he’d taken part in, but then it had been whispered, spoken softly enough that he could barely make it out. Now, Lindsey spoke out loud, and he could hear it clearly. It was throaty, all sharp, harsh sounds and rolling syllables, but the feeling it evoked wasn’t threatening. It was safe, somehow, like a warm blanket draped across Gerard’s shoulders. It was a strange contrast, but he found that he didn’t mind. He almost laughed. There he was, surrounded by a group of chanting demons, in a setting that should have scared him, but what little fear he felt had faded into the back of his mind. 

It took a minute for him to realize that his hands were glowing. They emitted a soft white light. Lindsey’s shone purple, and where the two colors met, a pale pink glow was growing stronger and stronger. Lindsey’s voice rose, and the candles’ flames grew higher, reaching up toward the ceiling. 

Then she drew her hands back, and all at once, the flames were extinguished. The plumes of smoke rose in unison, curling in identical paths through the air. She reached out and traced her fingers through them, forming new symbols that floated high above their heads before dissipating, filling the room with the scent of herbs and smoke. 

“There you go,” she said quietly. “One protection spell.”

Kitty shivered. “Those always give me the chills. It’s like a special occasion.”

“Enjoyable, but rare,” Lindsey agreed. “And over far too quickly. Help Steve clear up, I need to talk to Frank and Gerard a bit more.” Kitty stuck her tongue out, but she darted forward to retrieve the burnt-out candles, stacking them neatly and whirling away with them. 

“So,” Lindsey said, turning to Gerard. “About that dream of yours. Like I said before, it’s highly, highly unusual for humans to dream in this place. You might be an exception to that, though, since you’re in the wrong realm.” She frowned. “The spell should keep you from having any more dreams, but I can’t be sure. You aren’t like any soul I’ve worked with before. Your misplacement might cause other side effects, and I can’t say what they might be. They could be harmless, like the dreaming, but in the Under, you should always fear the worst. I suggest…” She glanced at Frank, something unspoken passing between them. “Well, I suggest you get to the ninth circle as soon as possible.”

“That’s what we’re trying for,” said Frank.

“I wasn’t finished,” Lindsey said, holding up a hand. “Although you need to hurry, you _will_ have to make a pit stop. You need to pay me back for this little service, in case you’d forgotten, and I’m running low on quite a few items. You’re going to be my errand boys. If you have any complaints, you can negotiate them when we make our contract...” She smirked. “Oh, wait. We already did that. Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Where do we need to go?” Frank asked, an edge of suspicion in his voice. “I’m not going to the River Lethe again, not after last time.”

Lindsey laughed. “No, not there. You’ll just have to drop by the sixth circle and get me a shipment from Hayley. I’m going easy on you this time.”

“The sixth circle?” Frank whined. “You want me to go to the City and then come _back_? That’ll take forever!”

“Relax, I won’t force you to take a round trip. Here.” Lindsey produced a pendant and piece of paper from thin air and dropped them into Frank’s hand. “Here’s your shopping list. Just use the charm to summon me when you’re finished, I’ll pick it up.” 

Frank sighed, shoving them into his jacket pocket. “Okay, deal. See you soon?”

“See you soon.” Lindsey smiled at Gerard, then snapped her fingers, and the curtain fluttered open to reveal a door. “Good luck to the both of you. You’ll need it.”

There was something knowing about her smile.

***

Gerard’s foot sank deep into a patch of the ground, instantly flooding his shoe with muck. He cringed and tugged it out of the hole. “Hey, Frank?” he asked, shaking his foot a bit. It did nothing except slosh the dirty water around in his shoe. “Why is the third circle so fucking gross?”

Frank shrugged. “It isn’t supposed to be fun.”

Gerard hadn’t enjoyed the sharp rocks of the first circle, but when confronted with the swamp that made up the third, he found that he missed them sorely. He’d been unconscious when Frank had dragged him past the second circle to meet Lindsey, but he figured it would have been better than this, too. Anything was better than this. He kept slipping on the slimy plants and patches of mud all around. His shoes weren’t nearly waterproof enough for this shit. It was cold, too, much colder than he would’ve expected. He was shivering in his t-shirt and jeans, both of which were now hopelessly stained with mud, and to top it all off, he was pretty sure he’d seen a few bodies floating face-down in the swamp.

Traveling across the Under was, in short, a miserable experience. The only upside was that Lindsey’s spell seemed to be working; they hadn’t been attacked since the goblins. Gerard didn’t feel safe, exactly, but knowing that he had both a spell and a demon at his side did help ease his nerves.

The only thing that truly threatened him was his own clumsiness. He somehow managed to trip over a knobbly root, almost landing face-first in the muck before a black rope whipped out and tugged him back up.

“Watch yourself,” Frank said dryly, the rope puffing into thin air. Gerard absentmindedly touched the spot where it had wrapped around his middle.

“How does that work?” he found himself asking. 

Frank raised an eyebrow. “What, this?” A plume of smoke appeared and, snakelike, wound its way around his arm. Gerard nodded, watching its movements with fascination. “That’s kind of hard to answer.”

“I’ve got all eternity to listen,” said Gerard.

Frank grinned. “Still might not be enough.” The smoke sharpened into a familiar blade, which he tossed up into the air; it spun a few times before he caught it again. “It’s magic, dude, what can I tell you?”

“But where does it come from?” Gerard persisted. “Does it have, like, limits? Can humans get it too? What -”

“Slow down,” Frank scolded. “I don’t know everything, okay? And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“What?” Gerard wrinkled his nose. “Why not?”

“‘Cause you’re nosy.”

“I’m not nosy!” said Gerard, offended. “I’m just curious. Seems like you could do with a little curiosity, too - maybe then you’d know more about your own realm.”

The corner of Frank’s mouth twitched. “It’s got nothing to do with curiosity. I couldn’t find out more even if I tried; I’m not high-tier enough to get in on the big secrets.” There was something odd about his tone, but Gerard focused more on his words.

“You’ve said that before, ‘tier.’ What does it mean?” he asked.

“None of your business.”

“Come on, Frank,” Gerard wheedled. “Tell me. Please?”

“No,” said Frank, shoving a branch out of the way.

“Please?”

“You’re just proving my point about the nosy thing.”

“Hey, I’m the one who’s stuck here,” Gerard said crossly. “I think I deserve to know at least something.”

“Okay, fine,” Frank said, rolling his eyes. “You wanna know something?”

Gerard nodded eagerly.

“You’re nosy.”

Gerard groaned. “Come on, Frank!”

“What?” Frank said innocently. “I did what you said!”

“But not what I _meant_.” Gerard knocked his shoulder against Frank’s, sending him stumbling to the side. “Tell me stuff. Come on. I wanna learn.”

Frank sighed. “If I explain, will you shut up?”

Gerard nodded.

“Okay,” said Frank, disgruntled. “It’s just a way of classifying power. Happy?”

“No,” said Gerard. “Tell me how it works.”

Frank heaved a sigh. “It’s based on the circle you were assigned to when you were a human. You can be first, second, blah blah blah, all the way to ninth.” He helped Gerard climb over a fallen tree, the wood slimy and rotten beneath their feet. “Is that a better explanation?”

“Yeah. What tier are you?” Gerard said curiously. He brushed his hands off on his jeans. 

Frank made a face. “Third. I _should_ be... Well, this hierarchy system’s bullshit, really.”

“You should start a petition,” Gerard suggested. “Get it changed.”

Frank laughed. “This ain’t a democracy, Gee.”

“Well, what is it, then?” Gerard asked. “I mean, who makes the rules? Where does it all come from?”

“Ah, ah. I’ve already answered questions, I’m not answering any more.”

“What? You can’t stop there!” Gerard shoved Frank again, but this time, he was ready; he dug his feet into the ground and didn’t budge.

“Why not?” he drawled. “Big scary human like you gonna make me keep talking?”

“I was hoping I could just ask nicely,” Gerard said with a shrug.

Frank laughed. “Wow. Great plan.”

“I’m not stupid enough to force you, you could totally kick my ass.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Frank paused. “Okay, you really want to know something? Nobody knows who makes the rules down here. People have been wondering since the beginning of time, but nobody’s found an answer yet.”

“Well, what do you think?” Gerard ducked beneath a low-hanging branch and turned back to face Frank. 

Frank paused. “What do I think?”

“Yeah, you. You’re a demon. You’ve had lots of time to theorize, right?”

Gerard held the branch aside so Frank could step forward uninhibited. As they walked, Frank looked down at his feet, seemingly considering what Gerard had said. The swamp was quiet around them. Even the sounds of their footsteps were absorbed into the soft ground.

“I think it’s all arbitrary,” he said finally. “This place is organized pretty well, but there are gaps in the details, shit that can’t be explained. Some people fill the spaces with a higher power. A devil, or something like that. I don’t really buy it. There’s too much shit that just… doesn’t make sense. Like you,” he said suddenly, his black eyes fixing on Gerard. “You’re an anomaly. If there was really a divine entity out there, you wouldn’t be here.”

He eyed Gerard a moment more, then looked away.

“So, to answer your question, I don’t know,” he said. “Don’t act like I’m an expert. I’m just as fuckin’ lost as you, but fortunately for my sake, I got the longer end of the stick.” A ball of smoke filled his palm. He watched it swirl for a moment before closing his fist over it. “Don’t expect to find answers in me.”

Gerard’s shoes squished unpleasantly as he walked. His thoughts jumped back and forth, a flurry of activity hidden by his silence. He had so many questions, some complicated enough that he could barely put them to words, but even if he could, he got the feeling Frank wouldn’t want to hear them. He’d gone quiet, and the slouch of his shoulders was unmistakably brooding. Gerard had spent enough time with him by now to read the changes in his mood. Any attempt to glean further information from him would just result in an argument.

Instead, Gerard changed the subject.

“What do your tattoos mean?”

Frank looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head. “What?”

“Your tattoos,” Gerard, pointing to the sleeve of ink that took up Frank’s entire right arm. “They’ve got to mean something, right?” He took hold of Frank’s wrist, holding it up so he could get a better look. He grinned. “Hey, is that the virgin Mary? Shit, man, I so wouldn’t have pegged you as a Catholic.”

Frank shook him off with a scowl. “I’m not.”

“Well, obviously not anymore. But were you? Shit, wait.” Gerard stopped to think. “How long have you been a demon for? I mean, when were you alive, what year? Do you remember being human? Was it -”

Frank snapped his fingers, and Gerard’s voice cut off. He touched a hand to his throat, startled, but no matter how he tried to speak, no sound came out. 

“Too many questions,” Frank said brusquely. After a moment, Gerard felt the pressure on his throat relax. He rubbed it, wincing. 

“Asshole,” he muttered. “You could’ve just told me to slow down.”

“Ah, but that’s so much effort. If I can just make you shut up, why shouldn’t I?” 

“Because it’s annoying,” said Gerard. “And kind of painful.”

“That’s the point, stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid. And you still haven’t answered me.” Gerard looked searchingly at Frank. His expression was unreadable. Gerard didn’t know when this had become serious, but somewhere along the road, it had. He’d never wanted to understand Frank as much as he did in that moment. Here was a literal creature of hell, sinister and beautiful in equal measure, but Gerard wasn’t scared. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d ever been scared of Frank, aside from the moment they’d first met, when he and Bert were at each other’s throats. After that, he’d never been threatening. There was something about him that was _different_. Gerard wanted to know what it was. 

“Who were you?” he asked. 

Frank stared back at him for a moment.

“The same damn person I am now,” he said, looking away. 

And with that, Gerard sensed an end to their conversation.

***

After a while, Gerard fell into the rhythm of their trek. His body went on autopilot, putting one foot in front of the other without thinking. It was a mind-numbing pace, and he might have fallen into a complete stupor if he didn’t have Frank at his side, prodding him every few hours. 

“We’re almost to the fourth circle,” Frank said. “There’s gonna be a bit more security at the barrier than there was before now. Just let me do the talking, okay?”

Gerard nodded warily. “Is the next circle as gross as this one?”

“Nah, but it’s more dangerous,” Frank said cheerfully. “You’ll be fine, though. Probably. We’ll only be there a few weeks, so you won’t have much opportunity to get hurt.”

Gerard stared. “A few _weeks_?”

“Yeah, man. Time runs weird down here, remember? You’ve already been here, what, a month or two, by the Middle’s standards?” Frank shrugged. “It goes by quick.”

A month or two. 

Gerard was stunned into silence. He’d been dead for months; Mikey had been _alone_ for months. “Isn’t there any way we can move faster?” he asked once he found his voice. “I need to get back home.”

“No can do. We’ve just gotta keep moving. If we’re lucky, we could have you back within a year and a half.” Frank paused. “Maybe two years. But that’s not so bad, huh? Could be worse.”

Gerard cringed. Two years might not be bad for Frank, but for him, it was unimaginable. “Can we just keep going, please? I don’t want to think about that.” Contemplating the length of the journey ahead of him just made him feel worse. 

“Mmm.” Frank eyed Gerard closely. “What’s got you so eager to get home? The Middle fuckin’ sucks, I don’t see why all you humans get so attached to it.”

“It’s not the place, it’s the people,” Gerard said. 

“Ahh, gotcha.” Frank hopped over a large puddle, lingering in the air a little longer than he should have. He spun lazily around to face Gerard before touching back down. “Who’s on your mind, then? That brother of yours? A boyfriend?”

“Didn’t I ask if we could stop talking about this?” 

“Boyfriend, then, got it.”

Gerard shook his head, his cheeks heating up automatically. “No, I don’t… It’s just my brother. He’s kind of all I’ve got.”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “You died single. That’s kinda fuckin’ pathetic, dude.”

Gerard had privately been thinking the same thing, but it sounded so much worse when Frank said it out loud. “No it’s not!”

 

“Yes, it is! Funerals are no fun if there’s nobody to cry over your corpse and kiss it goodbye!”

“Funerals aren’t supposed to be fun!”

“Then why do they have the word ‘fun’ in ‘em?” Frank argued. “Tell me you didn’t die a virgin. Then I might cry.”

Oh, God. “I, uh, no. I didn’t,” he said, flustered. Frank smirked at him. Gerard wished he wouldn’t. It was so much harder to ignore how fucking pretty he was when he went around giving Gerard looks like that. Gerard was suddenly hyper-aware of his own blush, and desperate to move on as quickly as possible. “Shut up,” he muttered. “I asked you to stop talking, can’t we please just walk for a while?”

“Actually, you asked me to stop talking about the passage of time,” Frank reminded him. “I did a pretty fuckin’ swell job distracting you, if you ask me.” 

Gerard paused. “Huh.”

“See?” said Frank, looking pleased with himself. “Now, tell me about yourself. I’ve got you down as a not-virgin artist with no boyfriend and a brother, what else is there to know?”

Gerard rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

***

The first thing that struck him about the entrance to the fourth circle was that it was _visible_. In previous cases, Frank had pulled him through an invisible portal, and bam, they would cross over. This time, Gerard could see a shimmering patch in the air, with two demons standing guard.

“Hey, Nate!” Frank shouted. “Vicky! Hey!” One of the guards looked up and waved at him. Nate, presumably. “What’s up, man? You gonna let a couple lost souls through?” 

“Depends, what’s your business?” Nate asked. The girl standing next to him, Vicky, looked Gerard up and down with boredom written plainly across her features before returning her attention to Frank.

Frank jerked his thumb at Gerard. “Escorting. This guy’s been very, very bad; we’re going all the way to the ninth circle.”

That got their attention. “Woah, the ninth?” Nate asked, impressed. 

Vicky suddenly seemed less bored. “The hell did you do to get sent there?” she asked.

Gerard’s brow furrowed, but Frank shot him a warning look. “I, um…”

“Murder,” Frank said quickly. “Lots of it. Super bloody, super awful. Can we go through?”

“Yeah, just let me check the list real quick.” A clipboard appeared in Nate’s hands, and he ran a finger down it, chewing on his lip. “What’s his name?”

“Um,” said Frank. He leaned over the clipboard, his eyes raking over it, then pointed to a name. “There, that’s him.”

Vicky leaned over Nate’s shoulder to see the paper. “James Peterson?” she read aloud.

“Yep. You probably haven’t heard of him, he never got caught,” Frank said with a shrug. If Gerard didn’t know the truth, he never would’ve been able to tell Frank was lying, the story slipped out so easily. “Killed by sheer dramatic irony. There was a shootout, he got caught in the middle. Everybody thought he was an innocent citizen. Public mourning and all that.” 

Nate grinned. “Humans, right?”

“I know,” Frank agreed. “Just when you think they can’t get dumber. Anyway, can we go through now?” He eyed the portal just behind Nate and Vicky. 

“Yeah, I don’t see why not. Have a good time, you two.” 

“But not _too_ good a time,” Vicky added. “You _are_ walking into the most agonizing place south of the Middle.” She smirked at Gerard. He averted his eyes. The more people talked about the ninth circle, the less eager he was to go there. It was only the knowledge that he would be able to go home that allowed him to continue on without much fear. 

“We won’t!” Frank grabbed Gerard’s hand, smiled, and tugged him toward the portal. Just as they were about to hop through, Vicky’s hand came to rest on Gerard’s shoulder.

“You know, that doesn’t look like a gunshot wound,” she said mildly, eyeing Gerard’s throat. _Fuck_. The scar. Gerard had completely forgotten about it. 

“There was also a knife incident,” Frank said brightly, then yanked Gerard through the portal. The second they were through, he looked Gerard dead in the eyes and said, “Run.” He pulled Gerard through the forest that had appeared around them, weaving through gnarled trees and sending panicked looks over his shoulder. Gerard didn’t know what he was supposed to be scared of, but if it made a difference to Frank, it was probably fucking bad. The trees whipped past them. Gerard darted through shadows and empty spaces, praying he didn’t trip over a root or something equally stupid. 

Frank seemed ready to go on forever, but Gerard wasn’t. Terror combined with physical exertion wasn’t the best combination for him. After ten minutes of running, he stopped in a clearing to gasp for breath.

“Can we stop for a minute?” Gerard wheezed. He was doubled over himself; no matter what Frank said, there was no way he was running any longer. 

Frank looked annoyed, but he didn’t leave Gerard in the dust. He hovered at the edge of the treeline. “Don’t take too long. I don’t think they’ll come after us, we weren’t _that_ suspicious, but we should get out of this area just to be safe. Vicky doesn’t like being lied to.”

Gerard nodded, taking the deepest breaths he could manage. In and out, in and out. The burn in his throat slowly began to lessen. As soon as his heart had stopped pounding too loudly for his voice to be heard over it, he asked the question that had been occupying his thoughts as they ran. “Why did you lie about who I was?”

“It wasn’t obvious?” Frank asked. “The deeper circles are dangerous places, man. They’re well-guarded. The higher-ups don’t want any low-tiers or weak little humans sneaking in where they have no business, so there are lists.” His face soured. “You’re not even supposed to be dead. You’re not on any of the lists, much less that one. How was I supposed to get us in without lying?”

Gerard saw the logic, but something inside him still objected to being called a murderer. “Did you have to say I killed people?” 

“Would you have preferred for me to say you kicked puppies as a hobby and put razor blades in kids’ Halloween candy?”

“I…”

“Good, ’cause even that wouldn’t have been enough,” said Frank. “I don’t know if you understand this, Gerard, but you’d be hard-pressed to find somebody in the upper circles who _hasn’t_ killed. This place was _built_ to punish killers. Sorry if I damaged your moral integrity or whatever, but sometimes, you just gotta lie.”

“No, I don’t have a problem with the lying,” Gerard said quickly. “I know it was necessary. I just didn’t get why.”

Frank shook his head with a sigh. “Gerard. You are a _special case_. You’re a pure fucking soul in hell. If any other demon had picked you up, they’d be gutting you for fun. Since you’re not on anyone’s list, that means it’s nobody’s job to watch out for you, which means it wouldn’t matter if you disappeared. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” Gerard said quietly.

“Good. You should count yourself _exceedingly fucking lucky_ that I decided to make you my job. I’m putting a lot on the line for this, okay? If somebody catches me protecting you, I’m fired. And if somebody catches you in general, you’re fucked. So we’ve got to be prepared to lie through our teeth.”

“Yeah. And if anyone calls our bluff, at least I can’t be killed again,” Gerard said, trying for a joke, or anything at all optimistic. 

Frank laughed. “Don’t take that as a comfort.” His expression sharpened. “Seriously, though. Don’t. There are things worse than death. And they’ll happen to you if we don’t keep our asses in gear, so let’s get going.” He disappeared into the trees, leaving Gerard to scramble after him.

“Frank,” Gerard panted once he had caught up. “Frank, wait, I want to say something.” Frank didn’t slow down, but Gerard went on anyway. “Thank you. For doing this, I mean. I know you aren’t supposed to. It really does mean a lot.”

“Mmm.” Frank’s face was hidden by the darkness of the forest. “Guess you just got lucky.”

***

_”Gerard, are you there?”_

_Gerard knew what would happen before he even opened his mouth. His voice would be inaudible; the darkness, choking. But that didn’t stop him from trying._

_”Mikey!” he shouted. “Where are you?”_

_The silence pounded into his eardrums._

_”Gerard? Man, where the fuck are you…” Mikey’s voice trailed off, sounding defeated. “You can’t even hear me, can you.”_

No! _Gerard wanted to say._ I can hear you, you stupid shit, just keep talking!

_”I’ll try again later,” said Mikey, mostly to himself. “Hope you’re still there when I do. If you’re there at all.”_

_”Mikey?” Gerard whispered, but he knew his brother was gone. The darkness had lost the faint note of familiarity it once carried. Now, it was more sinister. It could have held anything, and Gerard would never know. He would never be able to run._

_But then again, it might not hold anything. He might be completely alone._

_He wasn’t sure which prospect was more terrifying._

***

Gerard’s head was propped up on a patch of moss. He blinked a few times, then opened his eyes. The forest was no more light than it had been when he had curled up to sleep. Frank had tried to get him to keep walking, but it eventually became clear that he needed rest, and Frank had grudgingly agreed to watch over him. 

“We’re gonna have a long fucking talk with Lindsey next time we see her,” said Frank. He was sitting at the base of a tree across from Gerard, his arms folded tightly across his chest. 

“Why, what happened?”

“You dreamed again,” Frank said tersely. 

Gerard nodded. As always, the details were fuzzy, but he knew his sleep hadn’t been dreamless. His mind felt too active for that. There was a nagging feeling in the back of it, like he was forgetting something. The rest of the dream, probably. He remembered Mikey’s voice, but he wished he could know what else had gone on in his subconscious. 

“She said you wouldn’t, but you did. That either means her spell was shoddy or these dreams are worse news than we thought,” said Frank. “And her spells are never shoddy.”

Gerard frowned. “What do you mean, worse than you thought? Nothing bad happened. They’re harmless. Or, they have been so far, at least.”

“But they’re strong enough to break through Lindsey’s magic,” said Frank. “That’s not a good sign. We don’t even know where they’re coming from.” It was at that moment that Gerard noticed him holding the charm Lindsey had given him. He was threading it through his fingers, frowning down at it. “We’ll have to ask her to look into it after we pick up her supplies.”

“Why not just ask her now?” Gerard pointed to the charm. “That’ll summon her, right?”

“Yeah, but the stupid thing can only be used once.” Frank glared at it. “If I waste it before I’ve got her stuff, she’ll kill me.”

“We probably shouldn’t get too worked up,” Gerard said. “I mean, like I said, the dreams have been harmless so far. Who’s to say they won’t stay that way?”

“Never trust your luck.”

Gerard frowned. “Do you really think they could hurt me? They’re just dreams.”

Frank laughed, uncrossing his arms so he could prop one hand under his chin and give Gerard a fond look. “Oh, Gerard. Look at you. So cute, but so, so stupid.”

Gerard’s stomach swooped. He forced himself to focus on the latter portion of Frank’s statement. “I’m not stupid!” he protested. 

“Yes, you are. You think they can’t hurt you just because they’re dreams? They could reach into everything you’re most afraid of and work you through it again and again, dragging it out while you sleep. In a nightmare, your body doesn’t need to heal. You can get ripped open a million times and feel every second of it,” Frank said patiently.

“Well… At least I’d be able to wake up?” Gerard said weakly.

Frank sighed. “Yeah. Thank hell for that.... Except, y’know, maybe you wouldn’t be. We don’t know what the fuck we’re dealing with.”

Gerard let his head fall to the side, groaning. “Of course. Inescapable nightmares, why would I expect anything less?”

“‘Cause you’re a stupid little boy with no perception of how the Under works,” Frank said cheerfully. 

“Don’t call me stupid,” Gerard mumbled. 

“But you _are_ , man, it’s just a fact. You don’t know how to gauge shit down here. It takes years of experience, decades, and you’ve had what? A few weeks?” Frank snorted. “You liked Brendon, you liked Lindsey, you liked her coven. You think you had a good read on them, but let me tell you something. If I hadn’t been there, they would’ve fucked with you big time. Brendon probably would’ve dug through your darkest memories and made fun of you for them. Jimmy might’ve ripped your skin off for shits and giggles. They were nice to you, sure, but that doesn’t make them _nice people_.”

Gerard sat up, frowning. “That works in reverse, too, though,” he argued. “Just because I’m nice to them doesn’t mean I trust them. I know about contracts now, and I know there’s still a lot I have to learn. I’ve been trying to figure out more, but any time I try to ask you how this stuff works, you tell me I’m asking too many questions or change the subject.”

“And there’s another problem,” Frank said, clicking his tongue. “You trust _me_ as a source of information.”

“Well, you’re kind of all I’ve got!” Gerard aid angrily. He hadn’t meant for it to come out so loud, but he was sick of being called stupid and ridiculed very time he tried to understand. He was mentally and physically exhausted, wandering in a world that called for him to be constantly alert, and the frustration was bubbling up all at once. “If you don’t want me to get myself killed, then just explain shit to me!”

Frank stared at him.

“Look,” he said finally. “You’re not from here. You’re an outsider. You won’t be here forever, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen after you leave. You’ll probably end up in the Above someday. When you do, I can’t have you giving away our secrets - angels don’t know how the Under works, and vice versa. I’ll tell you what you need to know, but otherwise, just try not to act too dumb, and I’ll handle the rest.”

“I wouldn’t give away your stupid secrets,” Gerard said crossly. “I don’t care about that. I don’t even care about the Above. I just want to go _home_.”

“Then stop being an idiot,” Frank snapped. 

“How am I being an idiot?” Gerard asked. It was his turn to cross his arms.

“I don’t know, you just are! Arguing with me and trusting everybody and,” Frank waved his hands in agitation, “Just stop being so _human_!”

Gerard raised his eyebrows. “I think that’s kind of unavoidable.”

“Fuck you,” Frank grumbled. “I’m not used to working with humans for extended periods of time, it’s getting on my fucking nerves.”

“Well, maybe we both stand to learn something, then,” said Gerard. “Here, let’s make a deal. You guys like deals, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. How ‘bout this: you try to be more patient with me, and more forthcoming with relevant information, and I’ll try to act accordingly. I’ll do what you say. I know you’ve got a lot more experience down here than me, so I’ll wait for your call before passing judgement on someone or something. Sound fair?” Gerard held out his hand, looking expectantly to Frank.

Frank eyed it for a moment, then shook it. “Fine.”

Gerard let his hand drop. He was silent for a minute, allowing their conversation to sink in.

“Do you really think I should be worried about the dreams?” he asked finally. 

“Yes,” said Frank. “But I dunno, don’t make yourself sick. We’ll talk to Lindsey about it.” He prodded Gerard with his foot. “Go back to sleep, I know you want to. I can see your eyes drooping.”

“They are _not_ ,” said Gerard, but now that he thought of it, his eyelids did feel remarkably heavy.

“Oh, really?” said Frank. “This should help, then.”

He snapped his fingers, and Gerard was out like a light.

***

This time, Gerard awoke from a dreamless sleep. He mumbled a “Good morning” to Frank without thinking, and the two set off, making their way through the dark forest. 

The fourth circle wasn’t as wet and gross as the third, but it was way creepier. The trees were inconceivably tall, their spindly limbs reaching up toward the sky like skeletal fingers. Gerard swore he could make out whispering voices in the wind. He kept catching glimpses of movement, too; bright eyes gleaming between the trunks, flashes of red. He almost asked Frank for reassurance, but then thought better of it. It would be useless to ask if they were being watched when the answer was clearly yes. 

Gerard wasn’t sure how to act around Frank after they had argued, but Frank was acting as if nothing had happened. Well… No, that wasn’t true. He was definitely more civil than usual. He didn’t make fun of Gerard, instead letting him talk uninterrupted about whatever he so chose. For a while, Gerard rambled about the shenanigans Mikey had gotten up to at parties when the semester began, and that was when he noticed something.

Frank was interested. Like, genuinely. The air of superiority he usually carried was gone. He wasn’t watching Gerard like he was searching for an opportunity to tease, but listening attentively. His eyes were endlessly dark, but there was something bright about them, too. 

“What?” Frank asked. “Why’d you stop?”

“No reason,” Gerard said, a smile spreading over his face. If he called attention to it, Frank would probably return to his usual prickly self. For now, this was nice. “I was just thinking about another thing Mikey did, that’s all.”

Frank nodded. “The Middle’s changed so much since I’ve been there,” he said, staring into the distance like he was thinking out loud. “At least the people never change.”

“What, you’re saying I’m nothing you’ve never seen before?” Gerard said indignantly. 

Frank giggled. “No, don’t worry. You’re still special.” 

“What makes you think humans are all the same, then?” Gerard asked. “You said it yourself, you haven’t been to the Middle in ages.”

“I don’t need to go there to see the people,” Frank pointed out. “They come to me.”

“Only the damned ones,” Gerard argued. “What about the people who go up instead of down? You’re getting a biased look at the world. I mean, you were human once, right? What was life like back then? The people weren’t all the same, I bet. Just think about that. There must have been some good ones…” His voice trailed off. 

Frank’s face was half-lit in the darkness of the forest, but Gerard could see that his smile had vanished.

“I’ve never met a human I liked,” he said. 

The shadows wrapped around him like a cloak. He was rendered near-invisible, but Gerard didn’t need to see him to know he’d fucked up again. He almost sighed out loud. Great. Just when he thought things were going well between them, he’d gone and stepped on the consistently sore subject that was Frank’s past life. He really should’ve learned by now. 

Gerard bit his lip, wishing he could erase the tension in the air as easily as he had caused it. He just wanted to see Frank smiling like he had been a minute ago, so wrapped up in their conversation that he forgot to be an asshole. 

Demons were so _difficult_.

***

Frank started talking again a few hours later. He adopted his usual tactic of ignoring everything that had happened, which Gerard dutifully stuck to. He imagined that there were relatively few things that could upset a demon, and he shouldn’t make a habit of bringing them up. 

Frank directed most of their conversations after that. He asked Gerard about his life, and there were never enough answers to give. On the plus side, though, if Gerard asked questions in turn, Frank actually answered them. 

“How much do you know about angels?”

“Angels?” Frank made a face. “I’ve already told you that. They’re whiny little buzzkills, why do you want to know about them?”

“Because they _exist_ ,” Gerard said patiently. “And I’m curious. You must know more than you’ve told me, come on.”

Frank sighed. “Trust you to come up with the most unpleasant conversation topic. All right, fine. I’ll bite. Angels hang out in the Above, blah blah blah, they’ve got fancy wings and halos, and they’re disgustingly organized. Happy?”

“Do they ever go to the Middle?” Gerard asked. “It doesn’t seem like demons make the trip very often.”

“Well, yeah. Most of us aren’t powerful enough to go, and even if we were, we wouldn’t care enough to do it. But some higher-ups like to go and fuck around up there. They make contracts with humans, take their souls, that kinda shit.”

“Woah,” Gerard murmured. “What happens to the human’s soul after they make a contract?”

“Usually, they become a demon after they die,” Frank said matter-of-factly. “Pretty sweet deal, if you ask me. But you asked about angels?”

“I did,” Gerard confirmed. “Go on.”

“They’re fluttering around all over the place up there,” said Frank, scowling. “Some of ‘em pick humans to watch over, so there’s this whole group of special humans walking around with divine influence at their shoulders. It’s gross. Anybody who gets a guardian angel is pretty much guaranteed to get into the Above, which is bullshit, if you ask me. What if some angel chooses a total asshole to watch over, somebody who would’ve got sent Under if they didn’t have a guardian?”

Gerard frowned. “Wouldn’t the angel, like, prevent them from doing anything bad?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what they do,” said Frank. “And that’s the problem. It’s defying the human’s nature. If somebody’s rotten to the core, that’s just how they are. ‘Course, you ask an angel, they’ll give you a totally different story.” Frank shook his head in disgust. “You’re gonna have to consort with those motherfuckers someday. Good luck, man. I don’t know how I’d bear it.”

Gerard grinned against his will. It sent a flicker of warmth through him to be reminded that someday, he’d be out of this place. He’d be back home to enjoy his life, and then, when it was over, he’d have nothing to be afraid of.

And Frank would help him get there.

***

“We’ve gotta be careful,” Frank whispered. He and Gerard were standing behind an ancient tree, its thick trunk wide enough to conceal the both of them. A short distance away was the entrance to the next circle. Two men were stationed in front of it, pacing back and forth before the shimmering surface. Gerard eyed them nervously. Frank was whispering something, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the portal and its guards. 

“Gerard,” Frank said. “Dude.” He grabbed onto Gerard’s face and turned it back toward himself. “Did you hear anything I just said? I need all hands on deck if we’re gonna get past them. Focus up.”

“Can’t we just lie about my name again?” Gerard said distractedly. 

Frank shook his head. “The name we used before, that guy wasn’t supposed to make it any farther than this. We’d need to use a new name, but it’ll look suspicious if we keep switching it every time we cross over. I doubt Vicky’s gonna check up on us, but the further we go, the tighter the security will be.”

“Is there a way we could distract them?” Gerard asked, peering around the tree at the guards. They were talking back and forth, laughing about something, but he was too far away to hear their conversation.

“There’s no way it would work,” Frank said. “You’re not sneaky enough, you’d be noticed. Maybe we could try just rushing through… Nah, they’d come after us, and then they’d ask questions.” He cursed under his breath. “Shit, what am I gonna do with you?”

“Maybe we should just try lying. That seems like our best option.”

Frank sighed. “I hate to push our luck, but I think you’re right.” He reached out for Gerard’s hand, and though it was more of a possessive gesture than anything, meant to tug Gerard along like a dog on a leash, Gerard couldn’t help but take comfort in it. 

They stepped out from behind the tree, cautiously making their way toward the portal. Frank’s grip tightened as the shadows fell away from them. 

One of the guards finally took notice, and his face split into a wide grin. He pushed a pair of glasses up higher on his nose. Behind them, his eyes were black as pitch. “Well, would ya look who it is!”

“Frank, where’ve you been, man?” the other one asked. “You’re late!”

“Late?” Gerard said questioningly, but Frank silenced him with a sharp squeeze of his hand. 

“Yeah, sorry I took so long,” he said smoothly. “You’ve been waiting up, then?”

“Yeah. Bert said you were gonna be here, like, three hours ago.” The first guard frowned. “What held you up?”

Frank’s fingers went stiff. To all outward appearances, he was unchanged, but Gerard could feel his shock. _Bert_. He was still involved? 

“This idiot got lost,” Frank said evenly. “Took me ages to find him again. Could’ve been eaten by a hellhound or something, dunno what he was thinking.” He threw Gerard a sharp look. Gerard got the message, and kept his mouth firmly shut. 

“Aw, c’mon, there aren’t hellhounds around here,” the second guard protested. “You of all people should know that.”

“Give the guy a break, Ryland,” the first one chided. “He’s had to look after a human all the way from the first circle to here.”

“Ah, that’s true. Bert did say the kid was annoying,” Ryland reflected. 

“You’re annoying.”

“Shut up, Suarez.” 

Suarez stuck his tongue out, then turned to Gerard, giving him a curious look. “So, what’s his deal? He must be somethin’ special if he’s on Bert’s radar.”

“How much did Bert tell you?” Frank asked. 

“Not much. Just that you’d be passing through, carting some fuckin’ human along. He said to put you through ASAP.” 

“And, like always, you went and delayed them,” Ryland murmured. 

“Shut up, asshole. I’m putting them through now.” Suarez stepped to the side and made a sweeping gesture to the portal. “Ta-da! Courtesy of me, you may take your leave.”

Frank gave a perfect imitation of a smile. “Thanks, guys.”

“When you come back, you’re telling us everything,” Ryland said firmly. “It gets boring around here, this is the first good action we’ve had in ages.”

“Right, of course.” Frank pushed Gerard forward without another word, dragging him through the portal and not stopping on the other side. The scenery shifted in an instant, and Gerard almost fell face-first into a river before Frank was tugging him away. 

“We need to find cover,” Frank said through gritted teeth. “Or more magic. Anything. I was right, ooh, I’m gonna throw this in Brendon’s fucking _face_ , I _knew_ he was involved.”

“Why would Bert let us pass through?” Gerard wondered out loud. “He must know I’m not supposed to be here.”

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “And I don’t like not knowing. But I’m not gonna let him carry out any plans he might have. You and I are making it to the ninth circle, and that’s a fucking fact. Oh, watch your feet, by the way. You don’t want to fall into that.” He pointed to the river. He didn’t give an explanation, but Gerard gave the water a wide berth anyhow. 

Frank kept up a brisk pace for what must’ve been hours. He kept muttering to himself, snatches of words that Gerard couldn’t understand. He had long since realized that demons had their own language, but he’d never heard it spoken outside rituals. Frank probably hadn’t even noticed. Either that, or he was too angry to care.

Gerard wasn’t stupid enough to question why.

***

The fifth circle didn’t seem as intent on harming Gerard as the others had been. The river (or was it a lake?) extended as far as his eye could see. Frank repeatedly advised him to stay away from the edge, but the banks themselves seemed harmless. Gerard lost himself in a rhythm of walking and sleeping, the only interruptions being Frank’s brief attempts at conversation, and, of course, more dreams.

On those occasions when Gerard did hear a voice in his sleep, it was much quieter than it had been before. Mikey sounded defeated, like he was only going through the motions. He’d call Gerard’s name a few times, then sigh, and that would be it until Gerard woke up. 

“I don’t like it,” Frank said after Gerard woke from a particularly empty dream. “That doesn’t feel like a good sign.”

“Yeah,” Gerard said sadly. “I feel like I’m drifting away from him.”

“Which makes no sense,” Frank said. “Because, really, you’re getting _closer_. I don’t know what the fuck your subconscious is trying to tell you, except maybe that…” He cut himself off, rubbing his eyes. “I dunno. I’ve got an idea, and it’s not a good one. I’m gonna ask Lindsey as soon as we get the chance to talk to her.” He suddenly jumped to his feet, holding out his hand to Gerard. 

“Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Gerard hauled himself up, looking wearily out across the surface of the river. He didn’t know when, but somewhere along the journey, the landscape had stopped seeming strange and unfamiliar. It was typical now. Just another aspect of his crazy life. 

He started walking along the bank, settling into the familiar feeling of the ground beneath his feet and Frank’s hand in his. 

For a moment, he wished he could go back to sleep, if only to hear his brother’s voice. But then he remembered the way Mikey sounded, and thought better of it. Something had changed. He didn’t sound as desperate. Maybe the dreams was just a reflection of Mikey inevitably moving on, back up in the Middle. He had to let Gerard go someday. Accept the fact that he was gone and never coming back.

Hopefully, that acceptance wouldn’t come before Gerard made it home.

***

“I’ve never been so goddamn glad to see those gates,” Frank groaned. He stopped walking and held his arms up, lifting his chin and shouting at the rolling clouds above. “To any deities out there who may or may not exist, fucking _thank you_!”

“Shut your mouth,” Gerard grumbled. “You’re the one who’s always kicking me to keep moving. We are _not_ stopping so you can scream into the void about how much you hate walking.”

“As if you wouldn’t do the same thing,” Frank snorted. “You don’t get it, I’m just not _used_ to this. It’d be so much easier if I could just reappear in the ninth circle with you, but nooo, you have to _walk_.”

“I’m not used to this either!” Gerard protested. “You think taking a hike across indefinite distances is a normal thing for humans?”

“Oh, whatever.”

“You’re just being pissy ‘cause you know I’m right. Come on, Mr. Too-Lazy-For-Human-Transportation, we’ve got a circle to get to.” Gerard squinted across the river to the blurry cityscape silhouetted against the horizon. “How are we gonna get across the water?”

“Boat,” Frank said offhandedly. 

Gerard gave him a questioning look, but he just grinned. “You’ll see.” He tugged Gerard down the edge of the river, launching into an explanation as he went. 

“The City’s probably the best place in the Under,” he said happily. “It’s always jumping. Great place for business, whether it’s witchcraft, torture, or whatever the fuck else you deal in. I haven’t visited in ages. I don’t really get much opportunity for pleasure trips, y’know? Always ferrying you little shits back and forth.” He made a face.

Gerard tried his best to make out the buildings, but they were still too far away to be clearly seen. “It must be huge, if we can see it all the way from here,” he mumbled, mostly to himself. 

Frank nodded excitedly. “It is! This is the flashiest out of all the gates. The City’s…” His smile faded and quickly morphed into a frown. “It’s big, is what it is. Getting you through is gonna be a bitch. We had a little help from Bert last time, but that won’t be enough here. They’re bound to check your name, and if we don’t pull off the act, they’ll check your soul, and then we’re _really_ fucked.”

“We can make it, though, right?” Gerard said hopefully. “You’re a good liar.”

Frank huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. But, again… that’s not enough. I never thought I’d say this, but I really hope Bert’s still in our corner.”

He didn’t say much from then on. They grew closer and closer to the edge of the river until they were walking along the shore, black sand crunching beneath Gerard’s shoes.

“You said something about a boat?” he asked.

Frank nodded. “Should be coming up soon.”

Gerard squinted. He couldn’t see anything nearby, but then again, he knew that most things in the Under weren’t as they seemed. He kept walking beside Frank, waiting for the moment something would change.

It came a few minutes later. A wooden boat appeared on the edge of the sand, with a hooded figure standing at the bow. It inclined its head to Frank. Frank snorted and jumped into the boat. “Take the hood off, fucker, I keep telling you it looks stupid.”

“You think I don’t know that?” said a cross voice from beneath the hood. “I have to keep it on, it’s part of the job.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, nobody’s gonna report you.” Frank reached up to yank the hood off. “There we go.” A blond man with a scruffy beard blinked down at him, looking a little sour.

“If anybody sees, this is on you.”

“You’ll thank me later,” Frank said confidently. “You’re way more fun to talk to when you’re not dressed like a teenager going through their goth phase.” Gerard suppressed a snort of laughter. Frank smiled and waved him closer. “Bob, meet Gerard. Gee, this is Bob, AKA the boat man.”

“I’m the _ferryman_ ,” Bob complained.

“You’re Bob the boat man,” said Frank, grinning broadly. Gerard giggled and stepped onto the boat. It wobbled a bit beneath him, but the moment he sat down on the bench that bisected the middle, it stabilized. Frank sat down beside him. “Take us to the City!” he declared.

Bob looked unimpressed. “Got a coin?”

Frank paused. “Yeah, somewhere.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans, then, when he came up with nothing, tried his jacket and produced a gleaming gold coin. He passed it to Bob while Gerard tried not to stare.

“Where did you get that?”

“A dead guy’s mouth,” said Frank. Gerard looked at him, uncertain, and he laughed. “Trade secret, dude.” Bob sighed and picked up a long wooden oar from the bottom of the boat. He used it to push them off shore, then slowly paddled them toward the other side of the river. 

Each stroke of his oar sent tiny ripples through the dark water, but other than that, it was smooth as glass. Gerard could see his own face reflected in it if he leaned over. He remembered Frank’s warnings not to touch it, but it couldn’t hurt to look. If he just watched the water, everything else drifted away, and he felt like he was floating, gliding across it with nothing to ground him. There was no beginning or end to the river’s surface. It was simply there.

When the boat bumped against the sandy shore, he startled so hard he almost fell face-first into the water. Frank hauled him back by the neck of his t-shirt. “What did I say?” he scolded. “Don’t lean over like that, dumbshit.”

“Did you say that?” said Gerard, slightly dazed. He stood, the boat lurching beneath him, and jumped onto the sand before it could threaten his balance once more. Frank was right behind him. He waved cheerfully to Bob, who waved back before flipping his hood back up and pushing the boat back into the river. Gerard watched it slowly drift away until it faded from his sight. 

“Sweet ride, huh?” said Frank. “The fun part’s over, though. Now we have to get inside.” Gerard turned to see the City looming just ahead. It was even more intimidating up close. The gates were spiked and lined with coils of barbed wire, and over the top of the surrounding wall, Gerard could see the spires of buildings jutting out, blood-red and sharp as needles. 

“You ready?” Frank asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” said Gerard, his eyes still fixed on what he could see of the inner City. 

Frank gave him what could’ve passed for a reassuring smile if he didn’t look so nervous himself. For once, he didn’t tug Gerard along in his wake. They approached the entrance side by side, with every step bringing Gerard’s pulse to a more frantic pace. 

There was a queue of people lined up at the entrance. Gerard was reasonably sure most of them were human, but he caught sight of a few pairs of black eyes, and even a few sets of horns. Frank waved to a couple of them, but for the most part, he stuck close to Gerard’s side. He didn’t bother apologizing as they cut to the front of the line. 

“Is this allowed?” Gerard whispered. 

“Not really,” Frank whispered back. “But we’d never get anywhere if we didn’t act like assholes.”

He patted Gerard on the back and plastered on a smile, shoving the last few people out of their way. A very tired-looking demon with a clipboard in hand came into view. At the sight of him, Frank’s smile turned genuine. He relaxed almost instantly. “We’re in luck!” he said to Gerard. Before Gerard could respond, Frank had broken into a sprint and tackled the other demon, nearly knocking him over before he could shove Frank off, swearing loudly.

“What the fuck, Frank!”

“Nice to see you too,” Frank said sweetly. 

The demon looked tiredly down at him, dark circles hanging beneath his eyes. “I’ve been running this goddamn line for weeks,” he grumbled. “If someone doesn’t come pick up my shift soon, I’m gonna start throwing bitches into the Styx, no questions asked. I would’ve been _so_ excited to see another non-human if they hadn’t jumped my ass on sight. Give a guy some warning next time.”

“It’s a good thing you love me,” Frank said cheerfully. He glanced back at Gerard. “You coming, Gee? This is Dewees, he’s cool. He won’t bite.”

“As long as I’m not provoked,” said Dewees.

Gerard shuffled forward and allowed himself to relax a little. The easy banter between Dewees and Frank seemed enough proof that they were in good company. Maybe getting through this gate wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

“So, you gonna let us through?” asked Frank.

Dewees half-smiled. “Maybe. Bert told me you’d be passing by. What’s going on, man? I can’t remember the last time you two were on speaking terms.” Gerard’s pulse jumped. It wasn’t quite an answer. Frank must have noticed too; he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, shrugging a bit too casually. 

“Just business shit. I’ve got a prime specimen here, Bert wants to check him out.”

Dewees’ black-eyed gaze landed on Gerard. “Bert hates humans,” he said. “What’s he want with this one?”

“Just to check him out. That’s all he said,” said Frank, subtly pulling Gerard closer to him. “Can we get through? He’s gonna be pissed if we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah. This guy got a name?” Dewees asked, flipping through his papers. 

Frank paused just a fraction too long, and Dewees’ eyes snapped back to him, narrowing ever so slightly. He lowered his clipboard.

“I know that look. You’re up to something.”

“What?” Frank said with a nervous laugh. “Me?”

“You, motherfucker. What’s going on?” Dewees crossed his arms over his chest, and Gerard had to stop himself from shrinking back. He could turn on them in an instant, Gerard reminded himself. And if he did, they were fucked.

Frank took a deep breath, then: “If you want to find out, we’re cutting a deal. Seriously, I want radio silence on this shit.”

Dewees raised his eyebrows. “That wasn’t suspicious at all.” He eyed them both for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, I’ll bite.” He and Frank gripped hands, rattled off a quick incantation, then dropped them. “I won’t tell anybody what you’re up to,” he promised. “Just show me so I know how hard I need to smack you.”

Frank inclined his head to Gerard. “Look for yourself.”

“Oh, no,” Gerard said wearily. “Not this shit again - ah!” He clamped his mouth shut as Dewees dug a hand into his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, repeating a steady mantra of _It’ll be over soon_ to himself until his skin stopped feeling like it had been frozen and then microwaved. 

Dewees whistled through his teeth, low and impressed. “ _Damn_. I should report you, y’know.”

“Dewees,” Frank said under his breath.

“I know, I know. But what the hell are you doing, man? What’s Bert up to? If this blows up in your faces, I could get in some deep shit, too,” Dewees pointed out. “It’s nothing personal, but I don’t know if I can let you guys in.”

“Dewees,” Frank repeated. He touched his hand to Dewees’ arm and said something that Gerard couldn’t understand. It sent a shiver down his spine. The language of demons would never cease to fascinate him. There was something menacing about its rough syllables, yet when Frank spoke, the sharpest edges were honed into something soft. 

Dewees stared at him for a minute, then chuckled to himself, the sound growing into a flat-out laugh. “Ooooh, man!” he exclaimed. “So, that’s how it is, huh? You’re a crazy-ass bitch, Frank, I’ll give you that.”

“But you’ll let us through?” Frank asked. 

“Ah, I guess so.” Dewees waved his hand lazily, and the gates behind him creaked open. “Go on. You’re holdin’ up the line.”

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I owe you so many, dude, you’ve got no idea.”

Dewees winked. “You’ll be able to pay me back soon enough.”

Frank grabbed Gerard’s hand and guided him through the gate, practically glowing with delight. 

“That was so easy,” he said happily as the gates shrunk away behind them. “You gotta love Dewees, he’s the fuckin’ best.”

“Technically, Bert is the one who got us through,” Gerard said reluctantly. 

Frank shook his head. “Nah, Dewees would’ve let us go anyway. He’s chill like that.”

“You think so?” Gerard said curiously. “What did you say to him, anyway?”

“Just that we were springin’ your pure ass outta here,” said Frank. 

“And that was enough for him to let us go?” said Gerard, surprised. 

Frank shrugged. “I don’t involve myself in human affairs often. Neither does Bert. Given that both of us have suddenly decided to get on your case, Dewees’d have to be an idiot not to see how important it is.”

Gerard looked away, embarrassed. “You all treat me like I’m something special.”

Frank made to cuff him over the head, but he ducked away. “You’re not special in a _good_ way,” he said disdainfully. “You’re just weird.”

Gerard snorted. “Wow, thanks.”

Frank shrugged. “Hey, it was enough to get us a free pass into the City, so I wouldn’t complain if I were you.”

Gerard sighed. “I wish I understood it more, though. I mean, I don’t _feel_ particularly out of the ordinary.”

“That’s ‘cause you don’t know what’s ordinary down here.” Frank patted his shoulder. “We’re gonna find some answers for you, don’t worry. All we have to do is finish Lindsey’s errand and keep Bert off our backs.”

“Simple,” Gerard said hopefully. 

Frank grimaced. “Don’t jinx it.”

***

The City of Dis was nothing if not overwhelming.

It was beautiful, that was for certain. The red light filtering down from the clouds cast each building in an eerie glow, with long shadows reaching across the streets. Gerard thought he could see them moving in the corner of his eye. Wherever he looked, there was a new source of fascination. The architecture was a chaotic mess of time periods and regions, with modern-looking, angular buildings sitting right beside ancient structures of brick and marble, but each of them was in a common state of disrepair. They had a sinister aura about them, like the old houses Gerard used to see in Belleville, with broken windows and crumbling walls. The kinds of places people would whisper and tell ghost stories about.

His fingers itched to draw.

“I think that one’s ours,” said Frank, pointing to nearby shop. Hanging above the door was a white sign, the only markings being three black lines carved into it. Frank pulled the door open, and a bell jingled. Gerard followed him inside.

“Hayley!” Frank yelled. “It’s Frank, I’m here to pick up shit for Lindsey!”

“Just a minute!” a girl’s voice called back. There was a loud thump from an unseen source, then muttered curse. Frank waited with his hands in his pockets. 

Gerard looked around the shop, unable to mask his interest. Hayley’s shop shared a certain vibe with Lindsey’s, a hint of the supernatural hiding in every book and bauble, but it was also completely different. This place was much neater. Every object was in its place, whether it was the neat row of statues sitting atop the bookshelf, or the desk with a jar full of pink light stationed in its corner. 

Behind the desk was an open space leading to a hallway. A pixie-like girl with bright orange hair appeared in it, her hands and face streaked with green powder.

“Hi!” she said. “Sorry, I was in the middle of something. Did Lindsey give you a list?”

Frank retrieved the sheet of paper Lindsey had given him from his jacket pocket. It was a bit crumpled, but Hayley didn’t seem to mind, smoothing it out easily before skimming over it. 

“Ah, this’ll be easy,” she said. “It’s a bit of a load, though. Are you bringing it back to her?”

“Nah,” said Frank, lifting Lindsey’s pendant. “Summoning.”

“Oh! Well, that makes things easier,” Hayley said, satisfied. “You need anything else?”

“Nah, I’m just here on a contract.”

“I figured. Lindsey usually makes the trip herself, but I’m not surprised she put you up to it.” A pen appeared in Hayley’s hand, and she scribbled something down on the list. “Were you passing through the area anyway?” she asked, not looking up. 

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Funny, I don’t think that’s any of your business.”

Hayley shot him an amused look. “Excuse me for making conversation. I’ll take that as a yes, though, judging by your companion there. You gonna take him to the dungeons?”

“I can hear you, you know,” Gerard mumbled. He was a little tired of demons talking about him as though he couldn’t understand them. 

“It speaks!” said Hayley, delighted. “So, you’re Frank’s newest charge, huh? How’s he been treating you? Not too bad, I hope?”

Frank gave Hayley a look. “Don’t tease him.”

“Who said anything about teasing? Polite conversation, Frank. It’s an art. Learn it.” Hayley stepped back, her eyes flicking back to the list. “All right, give me just a minute.” She disappeared back into the hall. Something clattered, and a few minutes later, she reappeared with a box in her arms. She dumped its contents onto the desk before pushing past Gerard to the shelves near the door. She plucked a roll of wire from a rack, then ran her hands over the shelf, collecting an armful of tiny bags and jars. 

“This should be most of it,” she murmured to herself as she set it all down. She put one hand on her hip as she studied it, then nodded decisively. She snapped her fingers, and a second box appeared on the desk beside it.

“You can call Lindsey whenever you’re ready,” she said, loading the supplies into the empty box. Gerard peeked inside as subtly as he could, trying in vain to get a glimpse of the contents and decipher their purposes. Hayley smirked at him. Damn it. He wasn’t as stealthy as he’d thought he was. 

Frank held up the pendant and let it go. Instead of dropping to the floor, it hovered at waist level. He waved a hand over it and hummed a few words, and it began to shine with a purple light. 

“That’s still so fucking cool,” Gerard said to himself. 

Frank grinned at him, and the pendant suddenly burst out with a light so bright Gerard had to cover his eyes with his hands. When he thought it was safe to look, he peeked out through his fingers to see Lindsey rifling through the boxes Hayley had arranged for her.

“Two seconds,” Hayley sighed. “Two seconds, and you’ve already fucked up the system.”

“I’ve got a system of my own,” Lindsey said delicately. 

“Yeah, it’s called ‘complete and utter disorganization.’”

“Call it what you want, but it works for me.” Lindsey hefted the boxes into her arms, turning to nod at Frank. “Thanks for this. Saved me a hell of a trip.” Then she nodded to Gerard, her red-painted lips curling into a smile. “You’re still around, huh? Looks like my spell did the trick.”

“About that,” Frank said. He gave Hayley a pointed look. She stared back at him for a moment, a challenge in her eyes, then sighed. 

“All right, I can see when I’m not wanted. I’m going.”

Lindsey held out her hand. “No eavesdropping.”

Hayley’s eyebrows shot up behind her orange bangs. “Jeez, what’re you guys up to that needs such secrecy?” But she grabbed onto Lindsey’s hand anyhow, and their palms glowed red before she let go, vanishing into thin air. 

Gerard gave Lindsey a questioning look.

“Witches,” she said with a shrug. “We know shortcuts. That was binding; she won’t listen to us.”

“Good,” said Frank. “Because I’ve got some fucking questions.”

“ _We’ve_ got some questions,” said Gerard. “You said my dreams would stop after you did that spell -”

“But they haven’t,” Lindsey finished. She looked him up and down, then sighed, leaning back against Hayley’s desk. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Why?” Gerard asked. “You said it would work.”

“I didn’t say that,” said Lindsey. “I said it _might_ work. That it would _probably_ work. But you’re blessed, Gerard. I don’t have a perfect idea of how my magic will affect you.”

“And there’s another problem,” Frank said. “I… Okay hear me out. What if the dreams aren’t just dreams?”

Lindsey raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that?”

“Would it be possible for someone to plant visions in his head? Stuff that could hurt him?”

Gerard’s brow furrowed. “You don’t mean…”

“Apparently, Bert’s been granting us passage through the past few circles,” Frank said heavily. “The fact that he’s still poking his nose into this… It’s weird, you can’t deny it.”

Lindsey leaned back, looking thoughtfully up to the ceiling. “Mmm… It’s possible. But I doubt he’d be able to put anything in your head if you hadn’t somehow opened your mind.” She paused. “Did you… Oh, shit. Didn’t you say you’d done a spell with Brendon?”

Frank closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. “Fuck.”

“You opened his mind,” Lindsey said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Frank, you’re a goddamn idiot.”

“What?” Gerard asked. “What are you talking about?”

“Every soul down here has a certain level of psychic protection. Natural walls built into your mind,” Lindsey said. “If you take them down, it makes it easier for an outsider to explore your memories and shit, which can be useful, but it also makes you vulnerable to attack.”

The weight of her words took a moment to sink in. When they did, Gerard’s heart sank. “But… Didn’t you say in the spell that I’d be protected from psychic harm?”

“Bert’s stronger than I am,” Lindsey said bitterly. “I bet he could find a way to get around that.”

“Maybe the spell worked fine,” Frank said. “I mean, a blessed status shouldn’t change how the magic works… It’s just Bert. He’s fucking it up.”

“I wouldn’t rush to blame him,” Lindsey said hesitantly. “But… it’s very possible.”

Frank swore under his breath. “Okay. How can we get him to fuck off?”

“I don’t know if you can. He really hates you, Frank. If he’s the one behind all this, he won’t let anything stop him until he gets what he wants.”

“But what _does_ he want?” Frank snapped. “To fuck with me? He’s doing a pretty spectacular job of that, but I want to know what his end goal is.”

“You’re not alone in that,” said Gerard. He couldn’t follow everything Frank and Lindsey were saying, as there were obviously pieces of the story he was missing, but he could make out the gist: a violent, powerful bitch of a demon was after him, and they didn’t know how to get away.

Basically, Gerard was fucked. 

“We’ll keep heading to the ninth circle, I guess,” Frank muttered. “The sooner Gerard gets out of here, the sooner this will be over.” Lindsey gave him an odd look, but he waved her off. “Thanks for your help. I’ll swing by sometime when I’m not neck deep in this bullshit.”

Lindsey smirked. “You’re always neck deep in bullshit, Frank. It’s your lifestyle.”

“Fuck off. Don’t you have someplace to be?”

“Don’t _you_?”

“Fair point,” said Frank. “See you later.”

“I’ll see you.” Lindsey looked to Gerard, her head tilting slightly. “And you… It’ll be interesting to see where _your_ story ends.”

She curled her fingers in a little wave, then, still grinning, vanished. The pink light on the edge of the desk flickered. 

“Well,” Frank said to the empty space she had left. “I guess this is when we leave.”

***

Once he had spent enough time in the City, Gerard stopped thinking of it as interesting. Instead, it sent prickles of anxiety through his skin, in a way that none of the other circles had. Maybe it was the similarity to the human world. In the other circles, it had always been clear that he was far, far from home, but here, there was a note of familiarity that fell into harsh contrast with what he knew to be true. There was something deeply unsettling about it; a sort of cognitive dissonance. Like walking through a completely empty school building, or a playground in the dead of night. There was a constant feeling of wrongness beneath his skin. He could almost look at the buildings and pretend he was back home, but the scarlet light of the clouds and the shifting shadows kept his nerves buzzing. 

But that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was that he and Frank were no longer alone.

In the other circles, it had just been Gerard and Frank, carving out their own path. Gerard was pretty sure Frank must have deliberately led them off the beaten track, considering they hadn’t run into a single demon or human they hadn’t intended to. But the City’s population was inescapable. The feeling of being watched was ceaseless, and where there would have been the background noise of cars and machinery in a normal city, there was a faint chorus of screaming. 

“Don’t pay attention to it,” Frank said when Gerard asked about it. “Trust me, if someone’s being tortured in this place, they did something bad enough to deserve it.”

Gerard didn’t press the issue. He just bit his lip and tried to block out the noise. 

At every corner, there seemed to be a new cluster of people, lurking in half-illuminated alleys or skulking by the burnt-out street lights. Their eyes followed Gerard as he passed by, and there was no mistaking the hungry look about them. Frank would straighten up whenever they passed by, as if daring anyone to lay a finger on Gerard. No one ever did, but a girl with sharp fangs licked her lips at the sight of him, and Gerard was sure every demon on the block could feel the jolt of fear that shot through him. 

“Please tell me this circle’s smaller than the others,” Gerard whispered. 

Frank shook his head. “Nope. It’s gonna be a while before we’re through. Don’t worry, though. You’ve got magic on your side, plus one of the most badass demons ever.” He grinned, and Gerard could see each one of his sharp teeth, but it didn’t unnerve him the way it did with the other demons. It was actually sort of comforting. More comforting than anything else could have been, if he was honest. 

After a while, Gerard realized Frank wasn’t the one sticking close to him. Any time they began to separate, Gerard closed the gap between them in an instant, as if that was what he had always done.

He wasn’t sure which of them had taken the other’s hand.

***

Getting out of the sixth circle was easier than getting in. The guard waved them through after a brief explanation from Frank, and though Gerard thought he gave them a suspicious look, they were able to enter the seventh circle with little difficulty. 

Not for the first time, Gerard had to stop and take in the scene around him.

“This place is a bit more stereotypical,” Frank said helpfully. “Not too shabby, though.”

The seventh circle of the Under, was, in short, a massive inferno. Gerard thought he could make out the skeletons of charred trees, but all else was fire, red and orange and blisteringly hot. After standing in place for only a minute, he felt like he could burst into flames at any moment. 

The heat didn’t seem to bother Frank. He just gazed contentedly into the flames, as if they were nothing more than a cozy campfire. 

“How are we going to get through this?” Gerard wondered aloud. 

“No worries,” said Frank. “I’ve got it covered.” He stepped forward, and the flames parted around him, forming a path of charred ground wide enough for two. He turned around, grinning. “It won’t burn you. Protection spell and a demon at your back, remember?”

Gerard didn’t move. The flames danced before him, beckoning, ready to swallow him whole. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t make his feet move. It was so hot. If he got any closer, he’d surely burn to a crisp. 

“Gerard,” said Frank. “You coming?”

The crackling of the fire was far too loud. It hissed and popped, throwing out sparks to Gerard’s feet.

“Gee,” said Frank, gentler this time. “C’mon. I won’t let it burn you, I swear.” He held out his hand. 

Slowly, Gerard stepped forward and took it. He tried to keep his eyes away from the flames, but no matter where he looked, he was met with flickering heat. 

_The house was completely engulfed in flames. Gerard stood rooted to the spot, helpless as the fire spread, flickering tongues of orange licking at the walls and filling the sky with smoke. The door swung open. A woman clutched at the handle, her clothes stained with soot and blood. She opened her mouth to scream._

“Gerard, look at me.”

_The sound pierced him down to the bone. Before he could move, a shadow had appeared behind her. There was a flash of metal, and her throat shone glistening red before she collapsed, her last scream still echoing in his ears._

“Gerard.”

Frank’s voice jolted Gerard from his thoughts. He had barely noticed how labored his breathing had gotten. Frank guided his chin down, forcing him to make eye contact. Gerard could see the flames reflected in his eyes, but they looked so much smaller; miniature bonfires against a backdrop of black. Frank kept one hand on his jaw, gripping just firmly enough to make him listen, but softly enough to be a comfort. 

“You’re fine,” he said softly. “This circle is just like the others. Just meant to freak you out. I know it looks dangerous, but you’ve made it this far, and we aren’t turning back now. You want to get back to Mikey, don’t you?”

Gerard nodded, not taking his eyes off Frank. 

“Then we gotta keep going.”

Frank slowly let his hand drop, and started walking. The flames continually parted for him as he moved, and when Gerard followed, they closed into a solid wall behind them. It was impossible not to feel trapped. He kept his arms close to his sides, carefully avoiding any contact with the fire surrounding him. 

Frank looked over his shoulder and paused. He waited for Gerard to catch up, then took his hand and kept walking, his skin much hotter than any human’s, but still pleasant in comparison to the heat of the flames. 

“It’ll get better in a minute,” Frank assured him. “There’s an actual path we can take. Think you can make it until then?”

Gerard nodded. Frank was true to his word, and a few minutes later, the torched ground beneath their feet turned to solid stone. The flames began to shrink, then separate into individual blazes, until Gerard could gain a sense of their true surroundings.

They were standing on a raised walkway, overlooking a vast field of fire. Gerard could make out the tops of blackened trees, and in the midst of the flames, he thought he could see shadows flitting back and forth.

Frank answered before Gerard could ask the question. “Yeah, there are demons down here. It’s mostly humans, though. Damned souls. They don’t have anybody to keep them out of the fire.” 

Gerard would’ve shivered if it wasn’t so swelteringly hot. 

Frank let him look for another minute, then they set off down the walkway together, the sound of their footsteps lost to the roar of the flames below.

***

_”Mikey?”_

_”Mikey, say something. Are you still there?”_

_Gerard sighed. The eternal midnight had stolen his vision, and now, it had stolen his last hope. He couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear. The last time he’d heard Mikey’s voice had been days ago, and it had been faint, a mere echo of the calls he’d first heard._

_He’d been left alone._

_”Mikey?” he tried again. “Come on, please. You’ve got to be there somewhere.” Even though he was only dreaming, he couldn’t stand the idea of being alone. Mikey would never abandon him to this darkness._

_”Mikes?”_

_There was silence._

_Gerard waited it out alone, keeping alert on the off chance that some small noise would save him from his solitude._

***

Gerard pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, sighing quietly. Frank was sitting with his back against the edge of the walkway. Seeing Gerard awake, he uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Funky dreams?”

“Yeah,” said Gerard. “Well, not really. No more than usual. But it’s frustrating, sitting there in the dark and hoping something will change. I haven’t heard Mikey in ages... I can’t believe he’s just gone, though. He wouldn’t disappear on me.”

“Maybe the real Mikey wouldn’t, but that’s not the real Mikey,” Frank pointed out.

“I know that,” Gerard said, a little defensively. “But it still _feels_ real. It gets to me.”

He knew the voice he heard in his dreams was a mere figment of his imagination, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to hear it again. He was only human. He would take any sort of comfort, even if it would melt away the moment he woke up.

Frank eyed him skeptically. “It’s okay if it bugs you a bit, but don’t drive yourself nuts over it, okay? That’s probably exactly what Bert wants.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Gerard fell silent. Now that he was awake, the heat of the flames all around had returned in full force. It was a constant discomfort. He felt like he was being slow roasted, baked alive. He knew he wouldn’t _actually_ catch on fire, but it sure felt like he might. 

The sooner they got to the next circle, the better. Away from the fire, the dreams, the schemes of demons, and closer to Mikey… 

“Hey, Frank?” Gerard found himself asking. 

“Yeah?”

“Why is Bert such an asshole?”

Frank laughed. “I dunno, man. Maybe he had a troubled childhood. Although, you’d have to be a _really_ fucked up kid to end up like him.”

“No, I meant, like…” Gerard gestured impatiently. “Why is he such an asshole to us, specifically? To you. Why does he hate you so much?”

It was a long time before Frank responded. 

“He’s stubborn,” Frank finally said. 

“That doesn’t explain anything,” said Gerard.

Frank snorted. “You think it was supposed to?”

“No. Could you try explaining better?”

“Hey, remember a while ago when we said you wouldn’t ask stupid questions?”

“And we said you’d be more forthcoming with information. I think this is relevant. I mean, the guy’s invading my fucking psyche! I think I deserve to know why,” Gerard said. It came out much more snappish than he’d intended. The second the words left his lips, he wished he could take them back; Frank’s face hardened, and Gerard knew he wouldn’t be getting what he asked for.

“Look,” Frank said. “No matter how much he fucks with you, I want you to understand one thing. It isn’t about you. It never was, and it never will be. It’s me and him, and you just happened to get in the way. You’re not the problem, you’re not the solution, and you don’t need to know any of it, because you aren’t _part_ of it. Capiche?” He stood up and started walking down the pathway, his shoulders set into an angry slump.

For the first time in long while, he didn’t look to see if Gerard was following. 

“Damn it,” Gerard muttered. That could have gone better. Christ, he knew Frank didn’t like nosy questions, but he had to go and ask anyway. Now Frank was pissed at him, and he still didn’t understand any more than he had previously.

He had only gotten more curious.

***

Gerard had seen Frank angry before, but not like this. He refused to say a single word to Gerard, and on the one occasion Gerard tried to go up and touch his shoulder, he was met with the fiercest look he’d ever been on the receiving end of. 

He had somehow managed to fuck up monumentally, and he didn’t know how to fix it. 

Frank stopped walking. 

Gerard cautiously came to a halt behind him, not wanting to say anything for fear of further rejection.

“We’re being followed,” Frank said quietly. Gerard’s heart skipped a beat. “It’s a demon, but I don’t know who. Just keep walking. Act natural.”

“Natural,” Gerard said worriedly. “Okay.” Frank grabbed onto his hand, but the burst of relief and pleasure it brought was quickly stifled by the fear trickling down his spine. 

“Do you think it’s Bert?” he whispered as they walked. 

“No. I’d know if it were him. He’s more powerful, it makes him recognizable. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were one of his minions, though,” Frank said under his breath. “Stay close.”

Gerard didn’t need to be told twice. It was probably his imagination, but he thought he could feel a pair of eyes on his back. 

They made it the length of a city block before Frank froze. 

“Hey, Frank!” a voice shouted. “Wait up!”

“Damn it,” Frank muttered. 

“Hey, hey, Frank! Who’s your friend?”

Gerard was about to turn around when a man suddenly appeared before them. His eyes landed instantly on Gerard. 

“Well, well, well,” he said, running his tongue over the piercings in his bottom lip. “Who do we have here?”

“What do you want?” Frank said sharply. 

The man spread his arms. “What, I can’t say hi to an old friend? I missed you, Frank. And I’d love to be introduced to this fine young man.” He didn’t take his eyes off Gerard.

“We were never friends, Jepha. Tell me what you want or fuck off.”

Jepha grinned. “Aww. You sure you want to play it like that?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Frank said coldly. He shifted ever so slightly in front of Gerard. It was a subtle gesture, but its meaning rang loud and clear. 

A hooked knife materialized in Jepha’s hand. 

“Gerard, stay back,” said Frank, and Gerard barely managed to leap away before Jepha’s knife was slashing at his chest. It sliced through his shirt, the tip grazing his skin just enough to sting. Gerard scrambled further back, but Frank had already moved fully in front of him, his signature twin blades holding Jepha’s knife back. 

Gerard didn’t know if he’d ever get used to seeing Frank fight. He was impossibly fast; just watching him made it clear that whoever his wrath was directed at would soon end up dead. But he wasn’t the only demon in this match. Jepha didn’t taunt the same way Gerard remembered Bert doing. He matched every one of Frank’s moves with agility and deadly accuracy.

“Bert’s not fucking touching him,” Frank snarled. “Neither of you are. Give him this for me, would you?” His blades melted between his fingers, reforming into a wicked row of spikes that flashed as he aimed a punch to Jepha’s throat. Jepha knocked it away and countered with one of his own. 

“For once in my life, I’ve gotta be straight with you,” Jepha panted. “I don’t give two shits about Bert right now.” He slowed down just long enough to smile at Gerard, his teeth gleaming. Frank hissed and slashed a deep cut into his cheek, effectively distracting him once more. Gerard stood frozen with fear. The image of Jepha’s grin lingered in his mind, dark and hungry, with a promise written all over it. 

But Frank wouldn’t be beaten so easily. He and Jepha were both bleeding from numerous tiny gashes, but neither of them had been able to seriously injure the other. Gerard chose to take that as a good sign. Each time Jepha sliced at Frank, Gerard forgot to breathe, but Frank always found a way out. He would be okay as long as he kept moving. They would both be okay. 

Until Frank caught a blow to the jaw and stumbled, losing focus just long enough for Jepha to slip out of range. Gerard’s heart seized, expecting Jepha to move in for the kill. 

Instead, Gerard found himself staring Jepha in the face as his fingers gouged into Gerard’s chest. 

This wasn’t like when Frank had touched his soul, not like Brendon, not like Dewees. All those other times, Gerard realized, had stemmed from passive curiosity. They’d wanted to look, and nothing more. But Jepha - Jepha wanted it to _hurt_.

And hurt it did. Gerard felt like his insides were being simultaneously melted and ripped apart. He could hear bones crack, and the searing agony in his chest grew more unbearable with every passing moment. The edges of his vision had gone black. Everything was blurry, except the pointed edges of Jepha’s fangs as he laughed. The blackness threatened to overtake him, but each sharp burst of pain brought him gasping back to consciousness, forced to feel every crack and tear as something was pulled from deep inside him. Jepha twisted his fingers in deeper, and Gerard couldn’t stop himself from screaming in pain. 

And then it was over. 

The agony was so intense, it took a moment for Gerard to realize it had vanished. His knees buckled beneath him. He could hear Frank and Jepha fighting, but he couldn’t process anything more than the sweet, sweet relief washing over him. He curled into himself, still trembling with echoes of the worst pain he’d ever known. Every shuddering breath helped to ease the memory. It was over, he was fine, he had survived. 

He was okay.

The second the thought sunk in, Gerard’s eyes snapped open, and he sat up as best he could. For half a moment, he feared that Jepha might have gained the upper hand in his distraction. 

But no. Frank was still standing, and Jepha was on the ground at his feet. Gerard could see blood, far too much blood, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He breathed a sigh of relief and asked, “Is it over?”

Frank startled and turned to face Gerard. His hands were dripping with red, and it was splattered all across his face, but for some reason, Gerard wasn’t scared. In fact, he couldn’t have been more grateful. Frank had done that for him. For _him_.

“He could’ve killed you,” Gerard found himself saying. 

Frank looked dumbfounded. “Me? Are you serious?” He hurried to Gerard’s side and knelt down, his hand fluttering over Gerard’s shredded t-shirt. “That piece of shit almost tore your fucking soul out, and you’re worried about _me_?”

Gerard blinked dazedly. “Is that what happened?” He could still feel himself trembling.

Frank didn’t look at him, instead running his fingers along the shallow cut Jepha had left in Gerard’s skin. Gerard winced. Frank drew back instantly, looking guilty. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, man, I never should have let him get that close. I mean, _shit_ , he could’ve…”

“You said I couldn’t die down here, but there are things worse than that,” Gerard said quietly. “What did you mean? What’s worse than death?”

“Oblivion,” Frank said simply. “If your soul gets hurt, that’s the end for you. You disappear. Fade into the fabric of existence and lose everything that makes you you.”

Gerard swallowed hard. He didn’t even want to think about that. Instead, he glanced over to Jepha’s motionless form. “Is he… I mean, did you -”

“No,” Frank said. “He’ll recover, the stupid bastard, it’ll just take him a while. If we’re lucky, he won’t even wake up until you’re long gone. I’m gonna do a little magic thing to keep him bound to this spot, too, just in case. I’m no witch, so it won’t be that strong - he’ll be able to break it when he wakes up. But it should buy us some time. Gimme a sec.” He scooted away.

Before he could stand up, Gerard grabbed onto his arm.

“Frank,” he said. “Thank you.” 

Frank tensed. His eyes flicked up to meet Gerard’s, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, but then thought better of it. 

“Don’t thank me,” he said finally. 

“But -”

“Don’t,” said Frank. 

“Frank,” Gerard said softly. “You said it yourself, you saved me from something worse than death. Just let me be human on this.”

Frank’s knife appeared in his hand, and he began cutting a sigil into Jepha’s lifeless arm, not looking at Gerard. Gerard paid less attention to his work than to Frank himself. He worked methodically, his expression closed off as he marked Jepha’s skin with symbols. 

If Gerard hadn’t been paying such close attention, he might not have heard the murmur of “You’re welcome.”

***

“I can’t let you through,” said the guard. 

“Why not?” Frank demanded. “I’m an escort, I’ve got clearance!” The guard towered over him, but what Frank lost in height, he made up for in indignation. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared defiantly up at the guard. “I’ve got business to take care of. Bert told you we were coming, right? Can’t you just let us go?”

“Nope,” said the guard, sounding bored.

“Travie!”

“What? Bert’s not the highest power out there, he can’t tell me how to do my job. You don’t have an official order saying I should grant you entry, so, I won’t. Simple as that.”

Frank turned around, taking a moment to sigh, his cheeks puffing out as he exhaled. “Well, at least we didn’t piss off Bert,” he said to himself. Noticing Gerard’s confused look, he added, “Jepha’s one of Bert’s minions. I’m betting he was acting against orders, trying to get your soul for himself - or something like that, at least. What matters is that Bert is still trying to get us through the gates.”

“If you two wanna have a private conversation, can you do it somewhere else?” Travie asked. 

“No,” Frank said irritably. “It’s not like we’re holding up the line.” He gestured to the courtyard surrounding the portal. It was unoccupied except for the three of them, and the second guard hovering behind Travie. Beyond the stone half-walls that encircled it, the flaming fields of the seventh circle stretched into the distance. “How often do you get humans coming all the way out here? Every few hours?”

“‘S more often than that,” Travie grumbled. 

“Oh. Well, in that case, you should speed us through the gates so we don’t get in the way of your business,” Frank said pleasantly. He stepped toward the portal, but Travie held out his arm.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. Look, man, I know you’ve got shit to do, but you’re gonna need an official order first. You know how it is.”

Frank scowled. “Oh, so it’s personal?”

Travie shrugged. “Kinda. Escorts _are_ supposed to have orders, true, but given that it’s you… I won’t take my chances. I’d rather know that you aren’t gonna fuck things up before I send you off.” He glanced at Gerard. “Plus, that one’s got magic about ‘im. Smells like trouble.”

“What kind of trouble could it cause? It’s a _protection_ spell,” Frank argued. 

“That’s the problem. If he’s bein’ punished, you’ve got no business protectin’ him,” said Travie. “Come back when you’re clean and you’ve got a warrant. Maybe then I’ll reconsider.” A flick of his tattooed fingers, and Gerard found himself standing in the middle of a smoky field, the portal nowhere in sight.

Frank swore loudly and kicked at the scraggly grass. A patch of smoke curled restlessly at his feet, tossing with barely-contained fury. The nearest fire was twenty feet away, but his glare alone looked strong enough to set the ground before them ablaze. “Damn it. God fucking _damn it_ , now we have to walk all the way back there and talk to him all over again! Fuck!” He exhaled hard. “Well. Guess that’s another few days added onto our trip. Great. That’s really fucking great, Travie, thanks a lot.”

“Frank,” Gerard said timidly. “I don’t think he’s going to listen to us if we go back now.”

“We’ll just have to convince him,” said Frank. “I mean - we’ll find a way, we’ve got to. He’ll have to listen to us.” He sounded more like he was trying to persuade himself than Gerard. 

“Frank, come on. Think about it. You said the security is supposed to get more intense the further into the Under you go, right? It’s no wonder he turned us down,” Gerard said reasonably. In truth, when Travie had rejected them, his first instinct had been to panic. But there had to be a logical solution to every problem, and in this case, marching back to the gates and demanding entry just wasn’t going to cut it, however stubborn Frank might be. They had to look at this rationally. 

“He said to come back with an order,” said Gerard. “Why can’t we -”

“Because getting an official order means revealing your existence to the higher-ups,” Frank said testily. “And if we did that, we’d never get you out, so there’s the teensiest chance that it might be a bad idea.”

Gerard sighed. “Okay. Well, what about the protection spell? He said if we broke it, he might -”

“And that’s another bad idea. Wow, you’re really on fire with these,” Frank said sarcastically. “That spell is the only thing keeping us from getting mobbed with uglies. You want a goblin to melt your hand again, Gee? You wanna get your face eaten by a hellhound? No, I didn’t think so. We’re not breaking the fucking spell. We just need to find a new strategy.”

“What other options do we have?”

“I don’t know! We could take him by surprise, fight him or something, I don’t fucking _know_ , okay?” Frank snapped. “We’ll figure it out when we get there. I am _not_ letting hell’s corporate ladder stop me after I’ve gotten this far.”

“Frank, we can’t fight him,” said Gerard. 

“And why is that?” Frank said angrily. 

“Because he’s too powerful! And it would attract attention, he’d…” Gerard sighed. “God, you know I’m right! Why are you so being stubborn? Aren’t you, like, a thousand years old or something? You’d think demons would be less fucking childish.”

Frank’s jaw dropped. “You did _not_ just call me childish.”

He looked so offended, Gerard couldn’t stay angry. He laughed. “Well, it’s true, isn’t it? You’re stubborn. You’re only arguing with me ‘cause you’re pissed off,” he said. It only made Frank look more indignant. His mouth was curled into a tiny frown, and just looking at him made Gerard crack up again, because it was kind of adorable. “Look,” he said through his giggles. “Why don’t we think of some other way to do this? We won’t let it drag us down, we’ll just take a strategy break.”

Frank took a moment to sulk, then sighed. “All right, fine.” He paused. “And I’m not a thousand years old, motherfucker. I’m barely over a century.”

Gerard rolled his eyes. “Well, how was I supposed to know that?”

“You could’ve asked!”

“As if you would’ve given me a straight answer.”

“Oh, fuck you. I can give answers.” He crossed his arms and jerked his chin up. “Go on, ask. I’ll talk.”

Gerard raised his eyebrows. If Frank even implied that it was okay, he wasn’t about to restrain himself. He just hoped Frank knew what he was getting into. Any time he’d asked a remotely personal question in the past, Frank had gotten pissy in half an instant. 

Gerard gave him a minute to change his mind before hesitantly speaking. 

“So… what was it like?”

Frank raised an eyebrow. “What was what like?”

“Life. A century ago. Why do you look so… modern, if that’s when you were alive? Do you keep up with what’s going on?”

“I live in an adjacent dimension, Gerard, not under a rock,” Frank scoffed. “And no, I don’t deliberately go and seek out your new trends. It’s just a little hard not to notice when all the humans coming in start looking crazy different.” He paused. “You can usually figure out current events pretty easily. We got a lot of kids in uniform around 1940, during World War II… That kinda stuff. Deaths always reflect life.” He shrugged. “Plus, some demons like to hang around the Middle. Not many, but enough for word to get around.”

“What about these?” Gerard asked, unable to resist touching the ink that decorated Frank’s arm. 

“Oh!” said Frank looking pleased. “Those aren’t new. I got ‘em, like, forty years ago? It never occurred to me that you could even _do_ stuff like this when I was alive. I mean, I knew it existed, but I never thought about doing it myself. But then I had to bring a group of kids over to the City, and they _all_ had ink, and I was like, hey, why not?”

Gerard beamed. The last time he’d asked Frank about his tattoos, he’d gotten brushed off. This was a welcome change. 

Frank hopped up into the air so he was at eye level with Gerard and hovered there, smirking. “Got any other invasive questions for me? No, don’t answer that, I know you’ll say yes. I’m gifted with psychic powers. Or the ability to read your tiny human intentions, at least.”

“Aw, Frank, you can’t pretend to hate humanity when you’ve just confessed to thinking the things we do are cool,” Gerard said with a smile. 

“That doesn’t mean anything, stupid. I can respect your inventions while still maintaining a healthy level of hatred.”

“Sure you can,” said Gerard, rolling his eyes. He was tempted to ask more questions, about Frank’s life, his death, and everything in between, but he wasn’t sure what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Frank was still hovering in front of him, their faces less than a foot apart. This was the most open he’d ever been. Gerard didn’t want to make him move away now. 

Frank didn’t move away.

Gerard felt his pulse kick. 

His eyes flicked down to Frank’s mouth almost automatically. Fuck. _Fuck_.

Then Frank dropped out of the air, his feet landing back on the ground. “Come on, asshole. If we’re not walking, we should be talking strategy,” he said. He glanced down; then, as if to say, _Fuck it_ , sat down in the burnt grass. Gerard plopped down next to him.

“So,” said Frank. “Got any bright ideas?”

***

_Gerard’s subconscious hadn’t felt comforting in a long time. There was still something familiar in the air, but instead of making him feel safe, it made him sort of miserable. He knew Mikey was still there, through that odd sort of knowledge imparted to one in dreams, but he could never make his voice heard, and Mikey never responded._

_If Bert’s goal was to fuck with Gerard, it was most certainly working._

_”Mikey?” he asked once more, knowing there would be no response. It was lonely in the darkness, with no hope of respite. The fact that it wasn’t real was no comfort, because he could still feel it, and it still hurt. It fucking sucked._

_Gerard closed his eyes and waited to wake up._

***

“I don’t like this plan,” said Frank, for the millionth time. “I really, really do not like this plan.”

“You agreed to it,” Gerard reminded him. “We have to change something before we go back to Travie, and breaking the spell is really the only way to change anything. The rest is out of our control. We can’t fight him, we can’t -”

“All right, I get it,” Frank interrupted. “But I hope you realize how dangerous this is. That spell was the only thing keeping Bert from getting even deeper into your head.”

Gerard winced. He knew it was true, and he had accepted it, but still struck uncomfortably close to home. His most recent dreams had been flat-out depressing. He still felt like he was getting further away from Mikey, like their connection was dissolving. He hated to admit it, but sometimes, before he talked himself out of it, it made him want to give up. But he always forced himself to remember. The dreams weren’t real. He had a chance to get back to the Middle, and he was taking it. All that stood between him and Mikey was time. 

He had no idea how much worse the dreams might get if they broke the spell, but it was a risk they would have to take. 

Frank had reluctantly agreed. He couldn’t break the spell himself, as he wasn’t powerful enough, but he apparently knew someone who could. 

So far, they had traveled through the least populated areas of the seventh circle. Gerard could occasionally hear screaming in the distance, but he had yet to see another human or demon. As they made their way across the burning plains, however, he began to see signs of activity - blurred forms flitting back and forth through the flames, or bodies, most likely human, chained to the trunks of burning trees. 

It wasn’t quite as unpleasant as the City had been, but it was still deeply unsettling.

“We’re almost there,” said Frank. “At least, I think we are. People move around, obviously, but if my memory’s right, he usually hangs around this area.” He stopped walking and held up his hand. A ball of smoke formed in his palm, and he spoke into it. Gerard didn’t know how to describe the effect. Frank’s voice wasn’t any louder, but it felt stronger, somehow. “Hey, Pedicone?” he said. “You around?”

At Gerard’s curious look, he added, “Just putting a call out there. If here’s nearby, he’ll hear it. Not as effective as a summoning charm, but it should get him here.”

Behind him, the wall of flames flickered and parted to reveal a man. He stepped forward, and it closed behind him. “Somebody need me?” he asked. 

“Yeah!” said Frank, looking pleased. “Hey, man. Glad you’re around. D’you think you could break a spell for us real quick? Nothing major, just some protection magic; we’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

The man, who must have been Pedicone, looked Gerard up and down. “Mmm... You’re taking this kid to the eighth circle? Yeah, I can see why that’d be a problem. Can’t give ‘im proper punishment with magic getting in the way.” His eyes narrowed. “But how’d he get a spell on him in the first place?”

“The situation’s kind of complicated,” said Frank. “Could you just do me a favor and break it?”

Pedicone raised his eyebrows. “A favor, sure, as long as it’s repaid.”

“Well, obviously.”

Gerard knew what came next. The moment Frank and Pedicone grasped hands, he closed his eyes, listening as Pedicone promised to break Gerard’s protection spell. Frank made him add a bit about no harm coming to Gerard. To do so would’ve completely slipped Gerard’s mind, but Frank was thorough as always. 

“All right,” said Pedicone, suddenly businesslike as he waved a hand over his arm to heal it. “There’s a hotspot not far from here, we’ll need it. Let’s go.” The flames barely parted in time for him to step through. 

“ _Hotspot_?” Gerard muttered. “I don’t think there’s a spot in this place that _isn’t_ hot.”

Frank giggled. “It’s a magic term. Certain places have more energy to be tapped into than others, I guess? Something like that. Lindsey tried to explain it once, but it just made my head hurt. Magic isn’t my thing.”

“I can see that.” Gerard watched Pedicone’s back as they walked. He appeared to be talking to himself, tapping the fingers of one hand to his other palm. It sort of reminded Gerard of Hayley, counting ingredients under her breath. 

“Is he a witch, then?” Gerard whispered. 

“Nah. Just a demon who messes around sometimes. I’d take you to a proper witch if I could, but we haven’t got the time,” said Frank.

Gerard nodded. “This won’t take long, will it?” The thought of their time crunch made him slightly anxious. He still didn’t really know what would happen if Bert beat them to the ninth circle, but he was sure it wouldn’t end well for him. 

“It shouldn’t. Hey,” Frank grabbed at his hand, “Stop it.” Gerard was confused for a moment before he realized he’d been seconds away from biting at his nails. “Demons can smell fear. You totally stink.”

“Um, sorry?”

“No, don’t be. Just chill out.” Frank squeezed his hand softly. “You’re gonna be fine. Just remember that, and try not to be scared, okay? If I have to give you a pep talk, it’s gonna be the lowest point of my career.”

“Why?” Gerard asked. “Would it be too heartfelt for your badass image?”

Frank scoffed. “Okay, first of all, it’s not just an _image_. I’m totally badass. And second of all, obviously. You think demons are supposed to help humans like this? If anyone found out, I’d be -”

“Fired, yeah,” said Gerard. “I remember.” 

“Probably more like _tortured for millennia_ , but you’re on the right track.” Frank was smirking up at him, but Gerard frowned. He knew Frank was putting a lot on the line for him, of course he knew that, but he had never really thought about the depth of it.

“Why do you do this, then?” he found himself asking. 

Frank blinked. “What?”

“Why do you help me?” Gerard asked. Frank’s hand was soft in his. He belatedly noticed that, once again, they were walking side by side. Frank wasn’t dragging him around or trying to show anyone who Gerard belonged to. It was just casual, comforting. 

Frank glanced ahead of them at Pedicone’s back. 

“I told you,” he said quietly. “Just getting back at Bert. Old grudges, y’know? He tries to fuck with me, I won’t put up with it.” 

Gerard wondered if he would’ve gotten a different answer if they were alone.

***

Gerard could tell when they reached the hotspot not through any intuition of his own, but from Frank’s reaction. He let out the smallest breath and tightened his grip on Gerard’s hand. A moment later, Pedicone stopped walking and turned to face them.

“We’re here,” he announced, and held out his hand to Gerard. “You ready, kid?”

“My name’s Gerard,” Gerard mumbled, but didn’t protest further. He looked to Frank for confirmation. 

“Go ahead, Gee. It’s fine,” said Frank. He released Gerard’s hand and gave him a small push forward. Gerard smiled and stepped toward Pedicone.

Pedicone gripped his wrist tightly and touched his free hand to his forearm. The skin was marked with a pale white design. It was circular, with branches and lines extending to the center. It might have been pretty, if it weren’t for the fact that it was raised off his skin in mottled lumps, like a burn scar.

“Mike,” Frank said sharply. “What are you -”

“I’ll break his spell,” Pedicone said reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We’ll just have… an audience.”

His fingers glowed orange against the scar, and he cleared his throat. “Got ‘em.”

“Perfect,” a familiar voice purred in response. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

“You _didn’t_ ,” Frank hissed. “Oh, you _fucker_.” He was at Gerard’s side in an instant, pulling him backwards. “Were you waiting for us this whole damn time?”

“Pretty much,” Pedicone said with a lazy smile. “What can I say? If you get a seventh-tier offering to pay you for information on a runty little demon and his sidekick, you’re gonna take him up on it. And I think you’ll find it was well within the limits of our contract. I didn’t _personally_ cause your boy-toy any harm. I just allowed certain interested parties to get involved.”

“You ratted us out!”

“Oh, don’t look at it that way. You would’ve done the same thing.” Pedicone snapped his fingers, and it was like a cold bucket of water was upended over Gerard’s head. A chill ran down his spine, and then it was gone, leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable. “There. Spell broken, deal upheld. See you on the other side.” 

He smiled, and then he was gone. The only mark of his presence was the fading set of fingerprints on Gerard’s wrist. 

“Damn it,” Frank muttered. “Fuck, I’m stupid. I’m so sorry, Gee, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He wrapped one arm around Gerard’s shoulder, brandishing his knife in his free hand. “All right, you asshole,” he shouted. “Show yourself!”

One moment they were alone, and the next, Bert was standing in front of them, smirking. Gerard startled, and Frank gave his shoulder a quick squeeze. Bert had been a threat hanging over his head ever since he got to the Under, but seeing him in person was bringing back bad memories. It seemed like ages ago that he had first greeted Gerard and subsequently attacked him. 

“Hi there, Gerard,” Bert said brightly. “It’s been a while! You’re looking pure as ever, how _do_ you manage it?”

“Don’t talk to him,” Frank said shortly. And just like that, he bore a closer resemblance to the Frank that Gerard had first encountered; all bared teeth and threats. He exuded dominance. Gerard had never been more glad to have Frank on his side. “Why have you been letting us through the gates?”

“Because you’d never be smart enough to get through on your own,” Bert said casually. He hadn’t even bothered to draw his weapon. Somehow, his relaxed attitude unnerved Gerard more than Frank’s front of confidence ever could.

“But why do you want us going through in the first place?” said Frank. “Whatever your game is, it ends now.” 

“Now, Frankie,” Bert chided. “After all these years, you still don’t get it. I’m not just going to _tell_ you what I’m up to. Maybe you’d understand if you weren’t -”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank growled. “Why are you letting us through? What’s with the dreams? The more time you spend talking, the more time you’ve got until I rip your throat out.”

Bert paused, his eyes gleaming. “Dreams?”

“Don’t play dumb,” said Frank. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Why are you fucking around in Gerard’s head?” 

“In his head, hmm?” Bert looked positively delighted. “Don’t tell me he’s been dreaming about Mikey?”

“Because of you, he has. But I don’t get the point of it. If you’re trying to throw us off our game, it’s not gonna work.”

“Oh, I think it already has,” said Bert, grinning widely. “But I’m afraid to say I can’t take credit. The dreams are no doing of mine.”

“Liar,” Frank snarled. “You know what? I don’t need to hear this. I was stupid to think you’d cooperate even minimally. Here’s the deal: you get the fuck out of my business and never involve yourself again, or I make you.”

Bert laughed. “It’s so cute, how you think you can.”

“Try me!”

“Frank,” Gerard whispered. Frank’s face was flushed with anger, and Gerard was pretty sure his knife had grown a few inches since the last time he looked. Frank’s knuckles were white around the handle. He looked ready to kill at any moment. Gerard knew how quickly demons could jump into a fight, and how dangerous that would be with this particular demon - Frank had said himself that Bert was much stronger than he was. Fighting him couldn’t possibly be a good idea. “Maybe we shouldn’t -”

“See?” Bert crowed. “Even the human knows you haven’t got what it takes! Just calm down, take a breather, and we’ll work this out peacefully. You’d prefer that, wouldn’t you? You haven’t even got enough demon in you to want a fight. If -”

Gerard made a grab for Frank’s arm, but it was too late. He lunged toward Bert, and Gerard caught the barest glimpse of Bert’s satisfied smile before his blade was drawn. 

This wasn’t like the first time Gerard had seen Frank and Bert fight. The first time, Bert had made it look effortless; most likely because he wasn’t trying. He was as casual in battle as he was in conversation. But this time, he dropped the facade. The second Frank’s knife met his, he was all business, and it was painfully clear that Frank was outmatched. 

For every hit Frank managed to land on him, Bert landed two. Gerard’s stomach lurched as Bert dug a deep cut into Frank’s upper arm, blood pouring out to coat his tattoos with red.

“Stop it,” said Gerard, the words slipping out before he realized what he was doing. “ _Stop_!” He lurched forward, then hesitated; to throw himself between them would mean certain death, but he couldn’t just stand and watch. 

It wouldn’t really be death, though, would it? He couldn’t die twice, as Frank had reminded him so many times. Gerard stood frozen by indecision. If he got himself hurt for no reason, Frank would be angry, but if he didn’t move, Frank would be as good as fucked. 

Then he blinked, and Bert had his knife jammed between Frank’s ribs. The resulting cry of pain was enough to jolt Gerard out of his head, and he was shoving Bert away as hard as he possibly could before he could form a coherent thought. 

Bert stumbled, but caught himself before falling. As he righted himself, his eyes slowly raked over Gerard, glinting dangerously.

Then he smiled and shook his head. “Isn’t that sweet. One piece of filth sticking up for another.”

Frank groaned, but there was more hurt in it than fury. Gerard instantly turned to look at him, and his heart nearly stopped. Bert’s knife was still stuck in his chest, and he was breathing hard, his face screwed up with pain. 

“I could destroy you,” said Bert. “Both of you.”

“Try it,” Frank said through gritted teeth. “See what happens.” He tried to stand up straight, but ended up doubled over once more, his hand trembling as he pressed it to his chest. He kept quiet, but Gerard still heard the hiss of pain he let out through his teeth. There was no way he could keep fighting. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” Bert said lightly. “I _could_ destroy you, it’s true. But I won’t. This isn’t over yet, Frank. Heaven’s playthings don’t belong in the ninth circle, but I’ll make an exception for the two of you.” He smiled. “See you there.”

Frank groaned again, this time with frustration, and Gerard knew what would happen the moment before Bert vanished. 

“Fuck! Shit, shit, god _damn_ it, not _again_! Why does this always fucking happen?” Frank stumbled forward and nearly fell, still shaking with rage or pain. It was probably both, but Gerard guessed that pain was a higher factor; he couldn’t count the number of cuts criss-crossing Frank’s body. He knew demons healed quickly, but just looking at the amount of blood staining Frank’s skin made him lightheaded. Frank struggled to stand up straight, and Gerard gasped. 

“Frank, you -”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine!” Bert’s knife had vanished along with him, leaving a gaping wound in Frank’s chest that didn’t look like it would stop bleeding anytime soon. Gerard didn’t know what effect it’d have on a demon, but for a human, an injury like that would most definitely have been fatal.

Frank shook his head. “I’m fine, ’m good,” he said, but the slur of his words indicated otherwise. He took a step toward Gerard and swayed dangerously. A moment later, his knees gave out, and Gerard barely managed to catch him before he collapsed to the ground. 

“Frank!” Gerard said frantically. “Fuck, fuck, what do I do? What do you need? Fuck, I should’ve gone to medical school -”

“I’m good,” Frank mumbled. “Just need a minute.” He slumped into Gerard’s arms, nearly dragging him down with dead weight, and closed his eyes. 

“Frank, no!” Gerard hoisted Frank back to his feet. “Don’t go to sleep. Stay awake, come on, you need to tell me what to do!”

Frank didn’t respond. He was limp in Gerard’s arms, and it didn’t take long for Gerard to realize he wasn’t waking up. Shit. After all the time they’d spent together, he hadn’t once seen Frank fall unconscious - this couldn’t be a good sign. 

Gerard lowered Frank to the ground as gently as he could. His hands came back bloody. He tried not to cringe, and failed miserably. He was _so_ out of his depth. With a human this badly hurt, there would be no point in trying to save them; they’d already be dead. And if Frank were human, Gerard would actually know how to approach the saving process. There wasn’t much he could do to help Frank.

He decided to tug Frank’s jacket off and press it to his wound, hoping to stem the bloodflow, but it wasn’t enough. While the hole Bert’s knife had left was clearly the most pressing injury, Frank’s upper body was scored with numerous smaller cuts that all needed attention. 

Gerard ended up taking his own shirt off and tearing off pieces of the fabric to form makeshift bandages. It wasn’t as easy as it looked in the movies; it took him a few tries to successfully rip it apart. He was left feeling uncomfortably exposed, but when faced with a choice between saving Frank’s life and bearing a little discomfort, there was hardly a decision to be made.

He sat beside Frank for what felt like hours. Every few minutes, he would reach out and touch a finger to Frank’s neck, reaffirming that his heart was still beating. Thank God demons had pulses. If Gerard didn’t have anything to indicate whether or not Frank was alive, he would’ve taken one look at the blood soaking his clothes and assumed the worst. 

It was weird, seeing him hurt. It was weird seeing him asleep. But the weirdest part was the role reversal; for once, Gerard was the one keeping watch over Frank, protecting him.

It felt sort of good. 

But any sense of pleasure was completely drowned out by concern. Gerard wasn’t panicking anymore, but he was far from calm. The only thing he could do was trust in Frank’s claim that he would be all right. The bleeding did appear to stop after a while, which was a good sign, but Gerard still felt sick with worry. What if Frank was too hurt to keep moving? Their journey to the ninth circle would be delayed, and with the time difference between the Under and the Middle, it might be years before Gerard got back home. If Frank was out of commission, it would undoubtedly have repercussions.

But Gerard couldn’t wrap his head around that now. The biggest thing on his mind was whether or not Frank would be okay. Somewhere along the line, he’d managed to defy the most basic warning Frank had given him - never trust a demon, and most definitely don’t get attached.

“Wake up soon,” he whispered, fingers hovering over the scorpion tattoo on Frank’s neck.

***

Gerard managed to keep himself awake even as the hours went by. When he caught himself nodding off, he would shake himself and sit back up, glancing at Frank to see if anything had changed. 

The third time he dragged himself back from the edge of sleep, he looked down to see Frank’s eyes fluttering open.

The first thing Frank said was, “You haven’t got a shirt on.”

Gerard rolled his eyes and tried not to show how relieved he really was. “If you’re feeling well enough to make fun of me, you must not be in grave danger,” he muttered. He let his posture fall into a slouch, trying to cover himself as subtly as he could, but Frank only grinned. 

“I wouldn’t say that. You ever been stabbed in the heart? It hurts like a _bitch_.” He sat up with some difficulty, wincing a little. “Ow. Is that my jacket? You got blood all over it, fuck. That was my favorite one.”

He tugged the fabric away from his wound. It was covered in dried blood, and stuck a bit as he pulled, but he managed to yank it away. Gerard felt a little stupid watching him. Frank snapped his fingers, and the blood vanished from his clothes, as if nothing had ever gone wrong. As if he was perfectly fine, and Gerard had panicked for nothing.

“Don’t be dumb, Gerard,” said Frank. Gerard wondered if he could read minds.

“What?” 

“You’re wigging out over something. I can tell,” said Frank, tapping a finger to his temple. “I’m psychic like that. Plus you do that thing with your mouth every time you’re anxious.”

“I didn’t know I was doing anything,” Gerard mumbled. 

“Well, you were.” Frank flicked his wrist, and a fresh t-shirt appeared in his hand, which he gave to Gerard. “Sorry you had to rip yours up.”

Gerard took it gratefully and slipped it over his head. “It’s fine,” he said. “Looks like you didn’t really need it, anyway.” Sure enough, the shallower cuts had almost completely vanished from Frank’s skin, and without the blood soaking his clothes, he looked much healthier. The only wound that still looked serious was the one in the middle of his chest.

Frank raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that it?”

“Is that what?” said Gerard. 

“You’re embarrassed,” said Frank. 

Gerard blushed again, ducking his head. “I, uh, maybe? I don’t really make a habit of stripping down in front of all my friends -”

“I wasn’t talking about that. What, did you think I was gonna die or something?”

“I… Not _die_ , exactly, I know that’s not possible, but... Well, look at you!” Gerard said defensively. “I’d have to be crazy not to worry.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” said Frank.

“Yes you are,” said Gerard, frowning. “You always are. I’m just a stupid human get worked up for nothing, I get it. You’re completely fine, and now I look like an idiot because I thought you were going to -”

“Gee,” Frank interrupted. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear.” He smiled. “I mean, okay. It was a _little_ stupid, but I know you can’t help it.”

Gerard’s heart sank. “Right.” He could still feel the leftover adrenaline thrumming in his veins. He’d been so scared, he’d been fucking _terrified_ of something happening to Frank, but it was just a joke to him. Of course it was. 

“Aw, come on, man, don’t look at me like that.” Frank scooted closer to him, his grin fading. He actually looked upset now. “I’m okay _now_ , but earlier, I might not have been. Things might’ve turned out way different if you weren’t here to help.”

“You don’t have to say that just to make me feel better,” Gerard said under his breath. 

“No, I’m being totally serious with you right now,” Frank insisted. “It takes a whole fuckin’ lot to knock me out, okay? That wasn’t your everyday stabbing. The knife was cursed. If it’d gotten any deeper, it might’ve cut my soul right open, and bam, no more Frank.”

Gerard’s jaw dropped. “Cut your - Frank, you said you were fine!”

Frank shrugged. “To be fair, I was a little wonky from blood loss.”

“Are you okay?” Gerard was unable to resist leaning in closer, touching a hand to Frank’s shirt over his wound. He half-expected to feel some sort of difference, an indication of dark magic at work, but there was nothing. God. The idea of Frank getting hurt, of him _disappearing_ , was enough to make him feel physically sick. Only Frank would walk away from a potentially fatal wound and say it was fine.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Frank said gently. “You got him away from me before he could fuck me up too bad.”

Gerard smiled. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You totally did! It was fuckin’ badass,” said Frank, pleased. “Not too shabby for a human.”

“Mm-hmm.” Gerard pulled his hand back, staring for a minute at his own fingers. The blood on them had disappeared. He could still recall the feeling of holding Frank up, the weight beneath his hands. 

“Hey, Frank?” he asked. 

“Yeah?”

“Why does Bert hate you so much? For real this time. I want to know.”

Frank was silent for a minute. Gerard held his breath, wondering whether or not he’d overstepped his boundaries once more. 

But Frank didn’t snap at him or change the subject. Instead, he looked directly at Gerard, his black-eyed gaze quietly intense.

“The Under has a system of deciding who becomes a demon and who doesn’t,” he finally said. “It’s got a lot of systems. I mean, with millions of souls running around, you’ve gotta organize somehow.”

Gerard’s eyes widened. He hadn’t really expected an answer. He unconsciously leaned in closer, drinking in every word. 

“Basically, how bad you were in life determines how strong you are down here. I was…” Frank paused. “Bad enough. When I got down here, they said I could be a demon. I didn’t see a reason to say no.”

Gerard waited for him to continue.

“My life wasn’t the greatest. It kinda fuckin’ sucked, actually. I spent twenty-three years wishing I was dead, killed a few people, and got killed back,” Frank said bitterly. “And you know what? They didn’t even mean to kill me. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I got shot, and I died. That was it.”

“Shit,” Gerard said weakly. 

“Yeah. It wasn’t even, like, dramatic, either. It was just a normal day. Sun shining, people laughing… and some asshole bleeding out in an alley.” Frank shook his head, almost smiling “Anyway. When I came here, there was a whole group of demons waiting for me. The board. They were arguing over which tier I should be. Most of ‘em were saying I should be fourth, or fifth, even. But there was guy who just wouldn’t stop disagreeing.”

“Bert,” Gerard guessed.

Frank nodded. “He didn’t think I had it in me to be a demon. Thought I wasn’t _truly_ a bad person, or some shit. Anywhere else, that’d be a compliment, but here, it was the worst thing I could’ve heard. I ended up a third tier, and Bert hasn’t gotten off my ass ever since. He thinks I don’t belong here.”

“Because you’re too nice?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah, something like that.” Frank scowled. “And there’s nothing I can do to prove him wrong, either. It’s really hard to move up a tier after you’re already dead. I’ve killed, I’ve tortured, I’ve done literally everything a demon should, but I still can’t move up. The only way to advance is to do something really terrible, but down here, everything is so awful, it’s hard to do anything that stands out.”

“I, um… You’ll find a way, I guess?” Gerard said tentatively. He was only human; he didn’t want to encourage Frank to go out and hurt people. It was uncomfortable enough to think of the amount of blood that was already on his hands. But at the same time, Gerard couldn’t help feeling bad. Frank didn’t deserve an eternity of harassment just because he didn’t match the demonic personality standard. 

“Yeah. I guess I will.” Frank half-smiled, shaking his head again. “Sorry for springing that on you. Wouldn’t want you to get too comfortable around me, huh?”

“No, it’s okay,” said Gerard. “I get it… kind of.”

“Gerard,” Frank said patiently. “You can acknowledge that this is fucking weird for you.”

“I… Okay, yeah,” Gerard conceded. “It’s a little weird.”

“‘Course it is, you’re pure. I’ve killed, and I’ve enjoyed it. If that didn’t rub you the wrong way, I’d have to question whether or not you really belonged in the Above.”

“It does,” Gerard admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not comfortable with you. I mean, Bert was totally shitty to you, and you’ve never done anything to hurt me.”

Frank shook his head, frowning slightly. “That doesn’t make me a good person.”

“Maybe you don’t need to be,” Gerard said.

Frank shook his head again and looked away. “That’s the pity getting in the way. I didn’t tell you about Bert so you could think I’m some poor, victimized, would-be human. I told you because you asked, and you deserve to know why he’s screwing your life up. Don’t let this make you forget to be scared of me.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” Gerard said quietly. 

Frank sighed. “Don’t be dumb, Gee. Take away my sob story, and I’m just another demon.”

“No, you aren’t,” Gerard said, more forcefully than he intended to. “You’re…” He paused. What he wanted to say was _nice_ , but wasn’t that exactly what Bert said? There was no way Frank would want to hear it again, even if it was true.

And if Gerard was honest with himself… He really did think it was true. Frank _was_ nice. He’d helped Gerard find his way back home, and saved him a few times along the way. No other demon would have done that.

Maybe Frank _didn’t_ belong in the Under.

“Don’t defend me,” said Frank. “You’ll be going back home soon. Maybe once you’re exposed to regular human society again, you’ll realize it’s not normal to sympathize with murderers.”

“It’s not just sympathy, Frank.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?”

Gerard placed his hand on Frank’s knee. “I like you,” he said softly. “Even if I shouldn’t. Even if you’re not completely pure of heart, you’ve always been good to me, and that’s enough for me to call you my friend.”

Frank wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Fuck, Gee,” he mumbled. “That’s a hundred times worse.”

***

Traveling was a slower process with an injured Frank. He was fit enough to complain, and to urge Gerard to walk faster, but they were forced to stop every few hours so he could catch his breath.

“This is so stupid,” he groaned, his face buried in his hands. “Why can’t I just heal already?”

“Don’t ask me,” said Gerard, fighting off a yawn. Moving forward was made all the more difficult by the fact that Frank wouldn’t let him sleep. Now that the protection spell had been broken, Gerard’s subconscious was uncharted territory, vulnerable to attack from anyone. He knew the danger, but he’d been running on fumes for hours now. While he didn’t need sleep the same way he would have back in the Middle, he was fucking exhausted. 

Frank prodded him sharply. “No. No yawns, motherfucker. You’re awake and alert, got it? Sleep is for the weak.”

“I know, I know,” Gerard said tiredly. “Are we almost to the gate?”

“Yeah. We’re super close, just keep those eyes open.”

Apparently, he and Gerard had different definitions of “close.” Another hour passed by before Gerard caught sight of the guard’s post. He expected to see Travie, but instead, a shorter man was hovering in midair beside the gate with his feet kicked up, nose buried in a book.

“Frank?” Gerard said slowly. “Is that…”

“Yes!” Frank said gleefully. “Fuck, we’re golden!” He nearly broke into a run, then slowed, wincing and touching a hand to his chest. “Ow, fuck. Okay. Not today.” He kept walking as quickly as he could manage, though, until he was close enough to shout, “Hey, Dewees!” and knock the book from his hands. 

Dewees caught it before it could hit the ground, giving Frank an exasperated look. “Why are you so determined to make me suffer?”

“I don’t think you’re the one who should be asking questions right now,” said Frank. “How are you even here?”

“I may have pulled some strings,” Dewees said casually. “Heard you got beat up, wasn’t sure if you made it out. I had to come and see, so I took over this shift.”

“Who told you I got beat up?” Frank asked, frowning. 

“The beater himself,” Dewees grinned. “One smug little seventh-tier. He _really_ wants you to get to the eighth circle. If you’ve got a warrant to get through, you’re going to make him very, very happy.”

Frank gave him a look. “I swear to God, if you’re really going to ask me for a warrant right now -”

Dewees laughed. “Relax. I’m not gonna make you get one.”

Frank breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’ve been through way too fucking much to deal with paperwork. Thanks, man. You’re the best, I ever tell you that?”

“Every day. You owe me, though, Iero.”

Frank nodded. “Totally. Anything you want, I’ve got your back. But for now, we’re gonna be fucking off.” He grabbed onto Gerard’s hand. Gerard had just flashed a smile at him when they plunged through the portal, and then he instantly regretted everything.

The space around him was pitch black. He could hear the echo of his own breathing, magnified as it bounced off stone, or ice, or whatever material this place was composed of, but he couldn’t see anything. The air was just cold enough to sting. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear water dripping. It was the only thing that kept him from freaking out instantly. 

This felt far too much like his dreams. The only thing missing was Mikey’s voice. Although, since his dreams had been silent as of late, maybe this wasn’t so different at all.

“Hey,” Frank said into his ear, and Gerard startled violently. 

“Shit! Don’t do that, you fucking scared me.” He tightened his grip on Frank’s hand, his heart pounding. “Is the rest of the circle like this?”

“How the hell did I scare you? I’ve been right next to to you this whole time, you can’t have lost track of me after ten seconds -”

A rumbling noise sounded in the distance, and Gerard inhaled sharply. 

“Frank,” he whispered. “Please tell me the rest of the circle isn’t like this.”

“It isn’t,” said Frank. “Your eyes should adjust soon. And the tunnel’s gonna open up once we go further in, so there’ll be a bit of light.”

“Okay,” said Gerard. “You lead the way.”

“I always do,” said Frank. Gerard could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Frank took him by the hand and led him through the darkness. At one point, Gerard reached out with his free hand, just to see what would happen, and startled when his fingers brushed against cold stone. His eyes began to adjust not long after. He could only make out silhouettes, but it was enough for him to distinguish Frank beside him, and the endless sprawl of the tunnel ahead.

“Is there any way you could light this place up?” Gerard asked. “Like, with magic?”

He was barely able to discern Frank shaking his head. “Nah. Sadly, my repertoire doesn’t include light or fire. Even if it did, though, it wouldn’t be a good idea. It’d only attract attention.”

His words sent a chill down Gerard’s spine, and he glanced over his shoulder on impulse. The darkened passage stared back at him. 

“We’re not far from the gate, so I doubt there’s anything around, but… “ Frank hesitated. “We should probably be quiet.”

Neither of them spoke for a long time.

“Frank?” Gerard said quietly. 

“Yeah?”

Gerard hesitated. “I… don’t really know. This place is making me feel weird. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but…”

“It’s okay,” said Frank. “I’m not used to it either.”

Gerard wished he could see Frank’s face. Seeing his smile, hell, even that stupid smirk would make it easier for Gerard to forget the danger around them. But the feeling of their fingers intertwined would have to be enough.

“Can you keep talking?” he asked. “I mean, quietly? We don’t have to make much noise, I just want to hear your voice. Or anything, really, just not the silence.” 

“Yeah. I get it. Are you scared of the dark?”

“Not really,” said Gerard. It wasn’t the darkness that scared him; it was the fact that the lines dividing what was real and what was not had become blurred. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was almost afraid to close his eyes, as if he might find himself in a waking dream the moment he opened them. Logically, he knew it didn’t make sense, but there was something about this circle that managed to fuck with his head in a way that not even the seventh had managed. Frank was the only thing that kept him certain he was awake. 

Thankfully, Frank didn’t ask for an explanation. He just kept moving through the tunnel with Gerard, his very presence providing comfort. Gerard could feel every twitch of his fingers as they walked. 

“Well, you already know about me,” said Frank. “I think it’s your turn to spill something.”

Gerard shook his head slightly, though he knew Frank couldn’t see him. “There isn’t much to spill. I’ve already told you pretty much all there is to know about me.”

“No, you told me about Mikey,” Frank said, his smile audible. “Mikey Way, texter extraordinaire, the extrovert to your introvert. What about you, though? What’s the story of Gerard Way?”

Gerard shrugged. “I don’t have one. I didn’t really live long enough to accomplish anything.”

“Liar. The Middle’s full of all kinds of advanced shit now. Like, new opportunities and all that crap. You must’ve done something.”

“Not really. I just stayed inside and drew a lot. College was probably the first time I ever got exposed to the real world, and it kind of sucked.” Gerard winced. “Mikey made me move in with him after the first year. I’ll always owe him for that. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if he didn’t.” In reality, he knew exactly what would’ve happened: he would’ve flunked out, gotten stupid drunk, and ended up dead in a ditch somewhere. But he couldn’t just admit that.

And it didn’t really matter. He’d ended up dead anyway.

“No matter how hard you try to downplay yourself, I’m not gonna believe any of it,” Frank said airily. “I wish I could see your drawings, man, they sound awesome.”

“Maybe you could,” Gerard suggested. “I could show you, when you take me up to the Middle.”

Frank shook his head. As they moved closer to whatever far-off light source illuminated the eighth circle, it grew easier to see. Gerard could finally make out Frank’s expression, but he couldn’t read it. 

“I told you, Gee, I’m not strong enough to go up to the Middle. Once I get you to a gate, you’re on your own.”

Gerard’s pulse tripped. “A-are you sure?” he asked. “You wouldn’t have to stay, you could just visit. Just long enough for me to show you around?” Frank didn’t smile, and Gerard’s heart sank.

“I can’t,” he said quietly. “I would if I could, but I just… can’t.”

“Oh. Yeah, I get it. I mean, that’s okay, it’s not your fault,” said Gerard. He kept his voice chipper, but if he held Frank’s hand a little tighter, well, that just couldn’t be helped. 

“No, you don’t get it,” said Frank, sounding slightly upset. “It’s not because I don’t want to. It’s just… Demons’ bodies aren’t built to exist in the Middle. If I did go up with you, I’d need to have a vessel. A body to take over. If I didn’t, I’d get hurt if I stayed for too long.”

Suddenly, the tunnel ahead didn’t seem long enough. 

Gerard could see the walls now. The hall was narrow, with low ceilings, but it was beginning to open up. The floor tilted slightly up as it led them toward a faint light. Frank’s face was cast in shadow, half-illuminated and still not smiling. 

“Gerard,” he said. “Don’t be dumb.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Gerard said defensively. 

“But you’re thinking something stupid. You’re doing that thing again.” Frank’s eyes were still in shadow, but Gerard thought he saw him bite his lip ever so slightly as he tilted his head. “You’re nervous. Why?”

“You tell me,” said Gerard. Until a moment ago, _nervous_ wouldn’t have been the word to describe his feelings; he didn’t know what the right word was. But something in Frank’s gaze made his heartbeat quicken. After a moment, he had to break eye contact, reprimanding himself and crushing down the stupid impulses that flared up whenever Frank so much as looked at him.

“Are you worried about making it back up safely?” Frank guessed. Gerard could see his face more clearly now; the arch of his eyebrows, the loose curls that fell around his ears, and those coal-black eyes that held nothing but concern, but still managed to make his breathing unsteady. 

He wasn’t scared to make it back home, he realized. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

He was sort of scared to leave.

“Gerard?” Frank said softly.

Something in his tone had shifted. 

It was lower now, and the concern had vanished; it was replaced by a burning energy, an electricity hidden just beneath the surface. Gerard shivered. He would have thought it was just his imagination, if it weren’t for the way Frank said his name, like it held some sort of significance. Like he was waiting for something, but didn’t want to say what it was. 

Gerard stopped walking. 

This entire time, his goal had been to get back home, but now that he was standing on the edge of success, he found himself hesitating. Once he was gone, what would Frank do? Go back to ferrying souls, as if they had never met? For some reason, Gerard couldn’t picture it. He couldn’t imagine a world in which they never spoke again, and if he went back to the Middle, that was what he would be facing. He couldn’t picture it, and he didn’t _want_ it. 

He didn’t want to leave without Frank. 

Oh, shit, what had he gotten himself into?

“Fuck,” he said out loud. He turned to face Frank, and his breath caught in his throat. Frank’s eyes were blazing with a look Gerard had never seen in them before; a blend of hope, caution, and overwhelming _want_.

His tongue flitted out to wet his lips, and that was the last straw. Gerard couldn’t fucking deal with this anymore.

He grabbed Frank by the collar and pulled him in close, the rest of the world melting away as he pressed their lips together. He forgot everything but the feeling of Frank’s mouth, hot against his, and the way he pushed into Gerard’s touch. But after a split second, Frank froze. He broke away, still panting for breath, and pushed Gerard a step back, but his hand lingered on Gerard’s chest too long for Gerard to believe he didn’t want it. Frank’s cheeks were flushed red, his eyes bright, and he was still staring at Gerard’s mouth. 

“We shouldn’t,” he said breathlessly. “We really shouldn’t -”

“I _really_ don’t care,” Gerard said fervently, and that must have been enough for Frank, because it took him less than a second to drag Gerard down again and lock their lips together.

Gerard had kissed a few people before, but not like this. Never like this. There was a girl in high school, before he realized girls weren’t exactly his style, then a few guys, but he’d been too drunk to even remember what they felt like. They didn’t even deserve to be called kisses, not now that they had something to measure up to; not now that Gerard knew what it felt like to have Frank’s lips against his, Frank’s fingers tangled in his hair. 

Frank gently bit at his lower lip, and for a moment Gerard forgot how to breathe. 

“Are you sure?” Frank murmured. “I’m gonna need you to be sure about this, Gee, you know I’m -”

Gerard had him backed up against the wall of the tunnel before he had the chance to finish his sentence. Frank let out a breathy noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and it was all Gerard could do not to grind up against him just so he could hear it again.

“I’m sure,” he breathed. “Very, very sure. Whatever it takes to get you to shut your goddamn mouth.” 

Frank was quick to comply. His hands dropped to Gerard’s hips, his fingers digging in and eliciting a soft gasp from Gerard. He lifted his chin, exposing his neck so Gerard could press an open-mouthed kiss to his jawline. 

“Fuck, Gerard,” Frank panted. “You’re - oh, shit, shit, back up real quick?” Gerard reluctantly let him go, and Frank let out a low hiss, reaching around to touch his own back. His eyes snapped open wide, and for a second, his expression was pure panic. “Oh, _shit_.”

“What is it?” Gerard said worriedly. “Did I hurt you?” His first thought was that he’d somehow aggravated the wound Bert had given him. That wouldn’t be on his back, though. Gerard pulled Frank away from the wall and turned him around so he could see.

Oh. 

_That_ wasn’t what he had expected.

“Frank,” he said, awed. “Are those...”

“Yes,” Frank said quietly. He pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing a pair of small, dark-feathered wings. He touched a hand to one of them, frowning. “Sorry. They, uh, get in the way sometimes.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Gerard whispered. He reached toward one of them, his fingers hovering hesitantly in the air. “Can I?”

“Go ahead.”

Gerard stroked a finger across one wing, and Frank let out a shaky breath. “How did I not notice these before? Do you just keep them in your shirt?”

“I, uh. Usually put a glamor on them. Makes them invisible, untouchable,” said Frank. “But I got distracted.”

Gerard smirked. “Oh, so I distract you?” He was only teasing, but it did send a thrill through him that he could make Frank - who had proved how dangerous he was many times over - lose focus. He stepped in closer, his face mere inches away from Frank’s. “I think I could be even more distracting. Care to see how?”

Frank’s breath caught in his throat, and his wings flapped out to their full length. He scowled and glanced back at them. After a moment, they shimmered and vanished. 

“Oh,” said Gerard, a little disappointed. “I liked them.”

“Well, I don’t,” Frank muttered, barely loud enough for Gerard to hear. He slipped his shirt back on. When he looked back up to Gerard, his lips were curled into a half-smile. God, Gerard wanted to kiss him again. “I hate to break this up, but we _are_ in the middle of a place in which we could be attacked at any time. Maybe when we’re somewhere safer?”

Gerard flushed. “Right. That sounds good.” Frank’s grin widened, and he held out his hand. Gerard took it without hesitation.

Afterwards, it was impossible to act as if everything was normal. The tension was suffocating. Frank kept rubbing his thumb across the back of Gerard’s hand, and fuck, Gerard never knew such a tiny motion could be so teasing. Every time Gerard glanced up at Frank, he was looking innocently away, but once, when Frank thought he wasn’t looking, Gerard caught him staring.

But their mission remained in place. They kept walking, the scenery around them gradually beginning to shift. Their path led up to the surface and revealed the same cloud-filled sky Gerard had seen in all the previous circles. The tunnels turned to walls, and after Frank began leading him through a series of twists and turns, he realized they made up a giant maze. Their destination must have been in the center.

He tried not to think of where they were going. Every step made him dread his journey’s end a bit more. 

After a while, Gerard’s worries slipped from his mind. It was hard to keep hold of any of his thoughts. His exhaustion had finally caught up with him, and he found himself stumbling, his eyelids drooping no matter how he fought to keep them open.

“Frank,” he mumbled. “I can’t do it anymore, I gotta sleep.”

“No,” Frank said sharply. “You can stay awake if you try, just -”

“I can’t,” Gerard said wearily. His mind had gone fuzzy, and every movement took herculean effort. His feet dragged as if they were made of concrete. He just wanted to lie down and pass out, too tired to even consider the danger it would put him in. “Please. You can watch me, make sure nothing happens. I trust you.”

“Gerard,” said Frank, squeezing his hand tightly. “You can’t. I didn’t take you this far just for you to get attacked in your dreams.”

“But I -”

“I can’t protect you there.”

“But I can’t stay awake,” said Gerard. Frank’s grip on his hand was the only thing keeping him upright. He needed to sleep, and he was desperate for an escape. If he only had a limited time left with Frank, he wasn’t going to spend it delirious with exhaustion. 

He staggered to the nearest wall and slumped down to the ground, curling into a loose ball. 

“Gerard, don’t,” said Frank, sounding genuinely upset for the first time. “Please don’t.”

“I’ll be fine,” Gerard murmured. “G’night, Frankie.”

The last thing he saw before he was swallowed by sleep was Frank, pressing a kiss to his forehead and whispering something inaudible.

***

_Gerard could tell the moment he opened his eyes that he was dreaming. Frank’s warmth had vanished from his side, leaving him cold and vulnerable. And there was something different about the darkness, too, an aura he hadn’t felt for a long time._

_”Gerard? Damn it, where are you? Gerard!” Mikey’s voice shouted._

_Gerard sat bolt upright, scrambling to his feet. “Mikey? Is that you? Oh my God, you’re back!”_

_”I never left.”_

_Gerard’s whole world stopped for a moment._

_His jaw dropped. “You can hear me?” he burst out. “Holy shit!”_

_”You can hear_ me _?” Mikey sounded excited. “Good! That’s really good, now, can you tell me where you are? Why couldn’t I get through to you before?”_

 _”Me? Where are_ you _?” Gerard demanded. “How are you talking to me?”_

_”Doesn’t matter. We just need to get you back home.”_

_Gerard paused. Every fiber of his being was screaming for him to run toward Mikey’s voice, wherever it was, but he had to remember his situation. “How… How can I know you’re real?” he asked softly._

_Mikey snorted. “‘Course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”_

_”Because you’re a voice in my dreams.” Gerard paused. “Or you might be, like, a psychic attack from a demon. Or something like that.”_

_”What? Man, I don’t even want to know what you’re on. I’m your fucking brother, Gerard, of course I’m real. I’ve been looking for you.”_

_Gerard paused. “Mikey,”he said slowly. “How did you get mixed up in this? This is - I mean, it’s crazy. How are you talking to me right now?”_

_Mikey was silent for a while. “I’m your brother,” he said eventually. “It’s my job to protect you. No matter what.”_

_”Mikey, what did you do?”_

_Gerard waited for a response, his chest tightening when there was none. “Mikey, what the hell did you do?”_

_And then he woke up._


	2. Chapter 2

“No!” Gerard thumped his head against the wall, cursing himself and Mikey or Bert or whoever made his dreams possible. “God _damn_ it!”

Frank was there in an instant, cupping the back of Gerard’s head to keep him from banging it against the wall again. “Hey, hey, stop it,” he said urgently. “What happened?”

“It’s Mikey, Mikey’s back, I…” Gerard squeezed his eyes shut tight, wishing that he could just fall back asleep. “Frank, I don’t think the dreams came from Bert.”

Frank stared. “What? What do you mean?”

“The protection spell, I think it did something. Mikey said he couldn’t get through to me before -”

“Because he’s a figment of your imagination designed to hurt you!”

Gerard flinched. “I… Frank, I really don’t think that’s true. The spell just put up defenses around my mind, right? Maybe it kept out good things as well as bad.”

Frank looked away. “Gerard, _nothing_ is good down here. There’s just no way.” 

“But…”

“And if it wasn’t Bert, how the hell would Mikey be able to talk to you, anyway?” Frank asked. “It just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t.” He stroked his thumb across Gerard’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Gee.”

“No, I… I think it’s possible. I think he did something really stupid, Frank, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was,” Gerard said miserably. “He just said it was his job to protect me, and then the dream ended.”

Frank’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what?”

“I woke up before he could -”

“No, no. Back up. He said it was his job to protect you?”

Gerard blinked. “Um. Yeah? That’s always how it’s been, with the two of us. We protect each other.”

Frank backed away, lost in thought. He stared at the floor, his lips silently forming words Gerard couldn’t make out, and Gerard held back the questions running through his mind. Frank clearly needed to concentrate. 

After a few more seconds, Frank swore and jumped to his feet.

“It’s a nickname,” he said to himself, tugging at a fistful of his hair and cursing again. “Fuck, oh God, I’m so fucking _stupid_.”

“Frank?” Gerard said cautiously. “What are you -”

“Come on,” Frank said, yanking Gerard to his feet. “We’re going to the Middle.”

“What?” Gerard stared at Frank, confused. “We’re only in the eighth circle. Don’t we have to go to -”

“No. We’re leaving right now. I’m sorry, I’ll explain later, I swear I will.” His voice wavered on the last word, and Gerard was shocked to see him so shaken. He’d seen Frank happy, and angry beyond belief, but not like this. This was something new. He looked as if he might cry, if given another minute.

Then Frank shook himself, and he was back to forced calm. “Hold on tight. We need to _go_.”

He held Gerard’s hand in a vice grip, and before Gerard could say anything, reality twisted around them, and the tunnel disappeared.

Gerard and Frank were left standing in the middle of a field.

All around them was overgrown grass and heather, but it wasn’t endless the way everything in the Under had seemed to be. In the distance, Gerard could see a road, and the tops of white farmhouses set between rolling hills. There was no smoke, no eerie red light, no faint screaming in the distance. The sun was shining far above. Gerard could feel the heat against his cheeks. He stared up into the blue sky, barely comprehending what it meant.

“We’re in the Middle,” he whispered. “We’re home.”

“You’re home,” said Frank. He hadn’t let go of Gerard’s hand. Gerard could feel his pulse jumping, and he kept glancing back and forth across the field, his breathing shallow. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. We aren’t safe yet.”

He let Gerard go and took a step forward. “I brought him!” he shouted. His voice echoed slightly as it carried over the meadow. “I swear, it’s not what it looks like!”

“What are you doing?” Gerard asked, confused. He was completely and utterly lost, but there was a growing sense of foreboding in the back of his mind. “Frank, how did we get here? You said we’d need to go to the ninth circle, you…” He paused, another realization dawning on him. “You said you weren’t strong enough to be here! Did you lie to me?” he said, anger slowly creeping into his voice.

“No! I didn’t, and I promise I’ll explain, but for right now, I need to make sure I don’t get killed before I can do that,” Frank said, on the verge of hysteria. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, still looking back and forth across the field. 

“I brought him, okay?” he shouted again. “Show yourself, and I can explain!”

“I don’t need to hear your fucking explanation,” said Mikey. 

Gerard gaped. In the blink of an eye, Mikey had appeared before Frank, his usual poker face replaced by a look of pure fury. 

“M-Mikey?” Gerard stammered. “How are - what? _What_?”

“It’s not what it looks like,” Frank said quickly. “I didn’t kill him, I just -”

“Dragged him across your shithole of a realm for no good reason?” Mikey snarled. “Yeah, I know you did. I’ve spent the past two years looking for him, and not having much luck, either, thanks to your stupid _spell_. Why’d you bring him now? So you could gloat some more?”

“No!” Frank held up his hands, taking a step back. “I wasn’t part of any of this, okay? It was a setup! I never hurt him, I’ve been _protecting_ him -”

Mikey barked out a laugh. “A demon. Protecting my brother. That’s real fucking funny, asshole.”

“It’s true,” said Gerard. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but he hated to see Mikey angry, especially since his anger was directed at Frank, who hadn’t done anything wrong. “Mikey, just listen to him.”

“No. Whatever he told you, it was a lie,” Mikey snapped. “He’s a _demon_ , Gerard, you can’t trust him. He fucking killed you!”

“I didn’t!” Frank shouted. “I told you, it was somebody else! Bert? Seventh-tier, circle overseer - come on, you must’ve heard of him!”

Mikey hesitated, and Gerard took the opportunity to jump in. The two of them could argue it out later; for now, he had questions of his own. “How did you find me?” he demanded. “How did you _talk_ to me? If you made some sort of deal with a demon, Mikey, I swear -”

“He wouldn’t need one,” Frank growled. 

Gerard furrowed his brow, turning to look at Frank. He and Mikey were glaring daggers at each other. Frank held himself as if he were tensing for a fight. Tension crackled through the air like static electricity, but Gerard couldn’t figure out why. He was missing something. 

“Why wouldn’t he need a deal?” he asked. 

“Don’t you say it,” Mikey warned.

Frank snorted. “You honestly think you can pull this off without him finding out? No way.”

“Shut your mouth,” Mikey hissed. “I’ll -”

“You’ll what?” Frank challenged. “Smite me? I don’t fucking think so.”

Gerard glanced back and forth between the two of them, unsure. “What’s going on?” he said slowly. 

“You never should have laid a hand on him,” Mikey said through gritted teeth. “You’ll see that in a moment.”

Frank took a step forward, grabbing Mikey by the collar and ignoring Gerard’s cry of protest. “Try it, archangel,” he spat.

Time slowed to a standstill.

_Archangel_?

Gerard’s ears were ringing. He made eye contact with Mikey, whose expression was caught somewhere between anger and fear. Gerard didn’t think he’d ever been able to see his brother’s emotions so easily before. It was off-putting in the highest sense of the word. This version of Mikey was openly furious, with his fingers closing around Frank’s throat; he couldn’t have seemed less like the dorky kid brother Gerard knew and loved. This Mikey had secrets. He was dangerous. He was…

Oh _fuck_ , he was choking Frank.

“Mikey!” Gerard yelped. “Stop it!” He scrambled to pull Mikey away, trying to loosen his grip on Frank, but his efforts were in vain. Mikey stubbornly refused to move. Frank was struggling to breathe, making tiny, pained noises that stabbed right through Gerard’s heart. “What the hell are you doing? Stop!”

“Why are you defending him?” Mikey demanded. “He’s a liar, Gee! He could’ve hurt you. All this time I’ve been looking for you, and he was keeping us apart.”

“You’re not a killer, Mikey! And he never hurt me, he never even tried. Please, just listen to him,” Gerard begged. 

“He _is_ a killer,” Frank wheezed. “Fuckin’ angels, think they’re so high and mighty, _ah_ -” He clawed weakly at Mikey’s fingers, but they only squeezed him tighter. 

“I was supposed to protect you,” Mikey said, his voice choked with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever tried to do, and he almost killed you, Gee, I can’t let him get away with that.” Gerard grabbed him by the shoulder. 

“Mikey, _stop_. Frank didn’t do anything. Can you please just explain to me what the fuck is going on?” he said desperately. Frank was barely able to draw breath anymore. He locked eyes with Gerard, mouthing a silent plea.

For a moment, Mikey was frozen still, then he cursed and released Frank. 

Frank stumbled back, gasping. Gerard’s hands shot out to support him as he coughed, holding him up until he had strength enough to stand on his own. Mikey watched with an expression of pure disgust. 

“Are you okay?” Gerard whispered. “Please say you’re okay.”

Frank managed a nod. “‘M fine. Talk to your psycho brother, I’ll be here.” He sank down to his knees, rubbing at his neck.

Gerard took a deep breath and turned his gaze to Mikey.

“Frank,” said Mikey. “You said his name was Frank?”

“I can hear you,” Frank said quietly. 

Mikey stared at him. He took a step closer, but Gerard held out a hand. “No,” he said firmly. “Not until you swear you won’t go Terminator on him again.”

Mikey acted as if he hadn’t heard. “You’re Frank Iero,” he said, wide-eyed. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

Frank looked away.

“Yeah,” he said. 

“I don’t believe it,” Mikey said to himself. “Ray’s gonna fuckin’ flip.”

“Don’t bring him into this,” Frank snapped. “This is between you, me, and Gerard. And Bert, too, but Ray’s not a fucking part of it.”

“That’s true,” Mikey said coolly. His moment of shock seemed to have passed, and he was back to eyeing Frank with contempt. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want to see what you’ve turned into.”

“This was supposed to be the part where I get answers,” said Gerard, frustrated. “Can you fill me in before you keep talking about shit I don’t understand?”

Mikey looked Gerard over, his face the picture of internal conflict. 

“Yes,” said Frank. “You deserve to know. If he doesn’t tell you, I will.” 

“Oh, hell no,” Mikey said angrily. “I’m not letting _you_ twist the story.”

“Get talking, then, altar boy.”

Gerard sat down next to Frank and waited for Mikey to do the same. After heaving a sigh, Mikey sat down a few feet away from them.

“Now, then,” Frank said, forcing a bright look. “I suppose some introductions are in order. Gerard, allow me to introduce you to the archangel Michael.”

Mikey glared at him. “He already knows me.”

“Not the real you,” Frank countered. 

“Funny, I could say the same thing to -”

“Can both of you shut up?” said Gerard, annoyed. 

Neither of them relaxed, but they had the decency to shut their mouths. 

“So,” said Gerard. “Mikey. You’re…” He hesitated. The word hung in the air, waiting for him to put voice to it, but he couldn’t manage to. If he spoke it aloud, then… well, then it would be _real_. It didn’t feel real. 

“An angel,” Mikey mumbled. “Yes. I am.”

“Since when?” Gerard asked. He was going for the lightest tone he could, but the question came out timid just the same. He loved Mikey, of course he did, but in the past few minutes alone, it was like his brother had become a different person. There was so much of his life Gerard didn’t know. How long had Mikey been keeping this from him?

Mikey almost smiled. “Since long before I knew you.”

Gerard’s brow furrowed. “Before you knew me? Mikes, you’re...” He knew before he said it that it couldn’t possibly be true, but that didn’t stop him. He couldn’t believe it, not yet. There had to be some way he could prove this was all just a dream. “You’re younger than me,” he said. “We grew up together.”

Mikey shook his head. “I’m your protector, Gee. I chose to be born into this body so I could be close to you, but I was around for a long time before that.”

“Protector? Born into…” Gerard shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“He’s your guardian angel,” Frank said, with more than a hint of disdain. 

Gerard could see why Mikey had avoided the term. When put like that, it only made everything seem more surreal. When Gerard looked at Mikey, he didn’t see an ancient, heavenly being. He just saw his brother. His skinny, pigeon-toed little brother, who’d insisted his terrible haircuts were cool throughout his teenage years, who’d complained about sore fingers when he started playing bass, who’d been stealing Gerard’s cereal since they were kids. 

Here were two completely different views of his brother, and it was impossible to reconcile them.

Gerard’s head was starting to hurt.

“Okay,” he said out loud. “Okay, let’s try something. I’m just gonna… forget how fucking weird this is, and we’re gonna act like everything’s normal, and you’re gonna give me an explanation, and I’ll try to understand.”

Mikey nodded. “Whatever you want.”

Gerard took a deep breath. He had so many questions, he didn’t know where to begin.

“How can you be angel if you’re my brother? I’ve known you my whole life. I mean, I remember when you were born; I remember when you were a kid. How is that possible?”

Mikey stared off into the distance. Gerard gave him a minute to gather his thoughts before he spoke.

“There are restrictions on how angels can go to the Middle,” he said. “Our heavenly bodies aren’t meant to exist here. We can travel on our own if we want to, but if we stay too long, it’ll hurt us. If you’re a guardian, it’s expected that you’ll take a vessel instead. That’s what I did. I chose a body to be born into, to house my soul, and it became mine. I would’ve stayed in it until you died, then left it and returned to the Above in my true form.”

“And the vessel? Would it - he - die, when you left?” Gerard was starting to get seriously weirded out. 

Mikey shook his head. “Not really. It’s not like I stole a human’s body, you know? I’m the only one who’s ever occupied it. Without me, it’s empty, yeah, so I guess you could call it ‘dead,’ but nobody died, because I’m still around. Does that make sense?”

Gerard’s brow furrowed. “I… think so? Maybe.” It was definitely a relief to know Mikey hadn’t been taking over someone else’s body for the past twenty years.

“What does your true form look like?” he asked.

Mikey almost smiled. “I can’t describe it in a way that’d make sense to you. You’ll never see it, though. I usually make myself look like this even when I’m in the Above. I got used to it.”

Gerard turned a suspicious eye on Frank. “You said something about vessels, too.” Gerard couldn’t recall the details off the top of his head, but he knew Frank’s story had been different from Mikey’s.

Frank nodded. “It’s different for us, though. Demons don’t get vessels in the same way angels do. We aren’t born into a body of our own; we have to take one that already exists.”

“And they don’t last very long,”said Mikey. “Human bodies aren’t meant to have more than one soul inside them. If a demon possesses a human for too long, the vessel burns up.”

Frank scowled. “Don’t act so fucking superior. It’s not like the system’s perfect for angels, either.”

Gerard found himself looking to Mikey for an explanation once more. “We have to give up some of our power in order to stay in a human body for an entire lifetime,” said Mikey.

Gerard thought he followed most of what was being said, but it was just so _impossible_ , it made his head spin. He was still half-expecting Mikey to break into a smile and say this had all been a big joke. But the rational part of him knew that wouldn’t happen, so he was forced to process the information as quickly as he could.

“Wait,” he said. “Frank, if you don’t have a vessel, how are you here?”

Frank’s scowl deepened. “Like he said, we can travel in our normal bodies if it’s necessary. But if this conversation gets dragged out much fucking longer, I might get messed up.”

Gerard looked uncertainly between Mikey and Frank. There was a huge amount of tension between them, but he didn’t think Mikey would do anything to deliberately hurt Frank. Not while Gerard was watching, at least. 

He decided to change the subject before Mikey could get any ideas.

“So… Why me?” he said finally. “Why do I get a guardian angel?”

“I know this one,” Frank said immediately. “Don’t get me wrong here, Gee, you’re amazing and everything, but the process is completely fucking meaningless! They just pick a human and swoop on down to fuck up their life.”

“That’s now how it works,” Mikey snapped. 

“Oh, really? You still pickin’ people to protect ‘cause you think they’re ‘special?’” Frank made air quotes. “Thought you would’ve learned by now.”

“The people who are assigned guardians are people with exceptionally powerful souls,” Mikey said, his voice controlled. “They’re destined to do great things. Mistakes can be made, obviously,” he said, glaring at Frank, “But for the most part, people are chosen because they have a purpose to complete.”

“And then once they’ve completed it, you couldn’t give less of a fuck about them,” Frank snarled. “Don’t pretend you’re some agent of a higher power, asshole. There’s nobody backing you. You’re no better than humans, just toying with everybody beneath you because you can.”

“Frank,” Gerard said shortly. “We’re going off topic again.”

Frank sat back a bit, discreetly flipping Mikey the bird, but not saying anything more.

Gerard looked to Mikey. “So, what are you saying? That I’m _special_?”

“Yeah,” Mikey said, as if this were no big deal. “My last charge passed on, so I was searching for someone new, and that’s when I found you. I knew you were important. I had to make sure it was the right choice before rushing into anything, obviously… But it didn’t take long. Only few years, your time. You called out to me, somehow.”

Gerard closed his eyes. “That’s… Yeah, that’s still _so_ fucking weird.”

The corner of Mikey’s mouth quirked up at that, and even Frank’s glare softened long enough for him to smile.

“I don’t expect you to understand everything,” said Mikey. 

“No, I want to, though,” said Gerard. “I _want_ to understand everything. I mean,” he waved a hand at Frank, “I get that you two are programmed to hate each other, sin versus purity or whatever, but what the fuck? I’ve never seen you like that, Mikes. You almost killed him!” There were other things on his mind, too, but he was still trying to process the events one by one, starting with his brother’s violent outburst.

“It’s a bit more than just programming,” Mikey said. 

Gerard blinked. “What do you mean?”

“He means we’ve met before,” said Frank, before Mikey could open his mouth. “A long time ago.” His fingers twitched, moving for just a split second toward Gerard, but he drew back at the venomous look Mikey gave him. “I… might not have told you everything about how I died,” he muttered. 

“What do you mean?” Gerard said again. 

“I was…” Frank stopped. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, exhaling hard. When he took them away, he looked up at Gerard, grimacing a bit. “I was blessed. Once. A long time ago.”

Gerard’s jaw dropped. “You weren’t his -”

“Mikey’s charge? Hell no,” Frank said instantly. “It was another guy. A normal angel. I dunno, maybe if I’d had an archangel on me I wouldn’t have gotten screwed over so bad.”

“Ray didn’t screw you over,” Mikey said under his breath. “You did that yourself.”

“Guardian angels are supposed to keep you from doing bad shit,” Frank said coldly. “I think it’s safe to say he sucked at his job. And I don’t remember him protecting me too much, either.”

“There’s only so much we can do,” said Mikey. 

There was a long pause. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Gerard asked softly. 

“Since when do I need to tell you everything?” Frank snapped. “I didn’t even know I was blessed until _after_ I died. I came down here, ready to face my punishment or whatever, but oh, look, everybody’s arguing about what to do with me. How do you think it felt to know I was supposed to be saved, but I went and fucked it up? Huh? Excuse me for not wanting to talk about it!”

Gerard’s stomach twisted with guilt. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“Yeah, well. Nothing I can do about it. I can never be pure, but a lot of people say I’m not bad enough to be a demon, either. Guess I don’t really belong anywhere.” Frank scowled. 

_Oh._

One by one, the pieces shifted and clicked into place.

“That’s why Bert hates you,” Gerard said quietly. 

“Mm-hmm. I mean, some people thought that because I’d betrayed my ‘inner purity,’ or whatever, I must be _really_ heartless. But he never believed that. I might as well be an angel to him.” He couldn’t disguise the bitterness in his voice. Gerard took his hand on instinct, and Mikey gave a loud cough.

“You said this was the guy who killed Gerard?” Mikey asked, pointedly not looking at Gerard and Frank’s intertwined fingers. 

Frank nodded. “At first I thought he’d brought another blessed kid down just to fuck with me, but this… He hates angels. If he knew about you, that might have something to do with it.”

“There were murders,” Mikey murmured. “They started a few weeks before Gerard got taken. It was specifically blessed souls, being killed before their time. I tried to track the killer down, at first, but they kept disappearing to the Under before I could get any leads. And then Gerard died, and I got distracted… ”

“That was him,” Frank said. “It must’ve been. He was trying to get your attention.”

“Gerard was the first soul to get dragged Under, though,” said Mikey, distracted. “Any of the others could’ve been, but he chose Gee. Unless he…”

His face paled. 

“Oh, shit.”

“What?” Gerard asked. 

“We did exactly what he wanted,” Mikey said blankly.

“What do you mean?” Frank asked. 

“What better way is there to start a fight than to kidnap an archangel’s charge?” Mikey asked, his voice suddenly hollow. 

Frank smiled nervously. “Well… We didn’t start a fight, did we? Not thanks to Gerard.”

Mikey closed his eyes, and Gerard’s heart sank.

“Mikey, what happened?” he asked. 

“The other angels know you were in the Under,” Mikey said, not opening his eyes. “They’ve known ever since you were taken. I… I was really scared, Gee, you can’t ever know how much. And mad, too. I’m still mad. The situation’s changed, I know, but it’s out of my hands now.”

“So, what you’re saying is,” Frank said slowly, “You’ve got a garrison of angels ready to throw down at a moment’s notice?”

Mikey nodded. 

“But you can explain to them, right?” Gerard asked, fighting away the horror creeping into the back of his mind. “They’ll have to understand, won’t they?”

“Some of them will,” Mikey said hesitantly. “But others… The motive isn’t going to matter to them; only that you were taken.”

Frank cursed. “Shit. If they don’t get it into their heads that all this was a setup, we’re gonna have a war on our hands.”

Mikey was on his feet in the blink of an eye. “Nobody knows we’ve found Gerard yet except the three of us. Raphael’s out on a mission, and I don’t even know where Uriel is… But they’re not important. I mostly talked to Gabe. If I can get to him before anyone else finds out, I might be able to convince him to stand down.”

“It won’t be that easy on my end,” said Frank. “I don’t know if Bert’s told anyone else his plan, but I think it’s safe to guess that he has. I don’t think anyone would try and stop him, either.”

“We’ll stop him,” Gerard said firmly. “We’ll find a way.”

Mikey let out a slow breath. “All we have to do is defuse this on both sides, then. Frank, you’ll need to talk to the demons.” With the utmost reluctance, he extended his hand. “Here. Show me you won’t break your word.” Frank grimaced, but stepped forward anyhow, touching Mikey’s hand as little as he could get away with in order to make a contract.

“I’ll go to the Under and try to convince the demons not to fight you. I won’t do anything you wouldn’t want me to. And I promise I won’t do anything to make the situation worse. Happy?” he said. His palm glowed red against Mikey’s, and Mikey winced, drawing back as quickly as he could.

“Gerard, you come with me,” he said. We can reconvene here afterwards.” He held out his hand to Gerard. “Come on, we haven’t got much time.”

Gerard hesitated. 

His other hand was still tucked into Frank’s. He looked down at Frank’s fingers, dark with ink against his own pale skin, and felt his mouth go dry. 

“Bert’s way stronger than you,” he said. “He almost killed you before.”

Frank smiled, but Gerard silenced him with a glare. “Don’t say it. I’m serious, Frank, he hurt you really badly. You can’t fight him again.”

“There’s no guarantee that I’ll have to.”

“Don’t bullshit me.” Gerard’s grip tightened. “He’s strong, he’s got influence, and he already thinks you’re an angel sympathizer. How’s it gonna go over when you try and stop him? You won’t be able to get away with it.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, afraid to speak the next words at full volume. “Frank… He won’t let you walk away from something like that in one piece.”

“I’ll be fine,” Frank said gently. “Don’t worry about me.”

“No!” Gerard hissed. “Don’t fucking lie, that only makes me feel worse. You can’t do this on your own.”

“Gerard,” Frank said patiently. “He’s gonna hurt me either way. But if you try to follow me, your brother’s gonna be the one kicking my ass. Let’s prevent what we can, hm?”

“I don’t care,” Gerard said unhappily. “I can’t just send you off to fight.”

“I’ll be fine,” Frank said again. He stood up, pulling Gerard to his feet as well, and brushed a lock of hair away from Gerard’s face. “We’ll see each other again soon. You just fix those angels up, okay? I think they must be allergic to their own feathers, it’s addling their brains.” He smiled, one half of his mouth curled into his signature grin, and Gerard ached at the thought of leaving him. 

He leaned forward and pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to the corner of Frank’s mouth, completely indifferent to the choking noise Mikey made. 

“Go on,” Frank murmured when he pulled away. “Get going.”

Gerard paused, searching for the right works. “Stay safe,” he finally said. He hoped it was enough to convey everything he was feeling. 

Frank seemed to understand. He squeezed Gerard’s hand slightly before letting go. “You too.”

Before Gerard could say anything else, Mikey’s hand was on his back, and with a _pop_ , the scene around them shifted. 

Gerard let out a slow breath. 

This was really happening, then.

A thick layer of mist hovered just above his ankles. He couldn’t see the ground beneath it. Maybe it wasn’t _ground_ at all, but a particularly solid layer of clouds. That would make sense, if Mikey had accurately reported their destination. 

“Welcome to the Above,” said Mikey.

Gerard turned to look at him. He didn’t look noticeably different, but something about him had definitely changed. There was a healthier glow to his skin, a sparkle in his eyes that made him look right at home. A ways behind him, Gerard could see a set of golden gates shining through the mist. 

“Woah,” he breathed. “Is that…”

“Yeah,” Mikey said with a hint of a smile. “I wish I could’ve shown you this under different circumstances, but… They are something, aren’t they?” Looking at the gates, he seemed content in a way Gerard had never seen in him before. Like he was truly at peace. But there was a hint of discomfort there, too. 

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he said wistfully. “I didn’t know exactly when you were slated to die, but it would’ve been a long time from now. You could’ve been happy first. Got the chance to become a famous artist, or whatever it is you’re meant to do… You would’ve had time to figure it out.” He began walking toward the gates, motioning for Gerard to follow.

“It’s nice to see your charge pass on,” he said. “That sounds really weird, but it’s true. You get that ‘job well done’ type of feeling. They’re safe, you did it. And when they realize you were their angel all along… that moment’s priceless. I guess I won’t really have the chance to do that with you. My big reveal got fucked up.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard said softly. 

Mikey shook his head. “Don’t be. I mean, surprising you would’ve been awesome, but you don’t have anything to apologize for. This is on me. I was supposed to protect you.” His words were spoken casually enough, but Gerard could sense the bitterness beneath them.

“Hey,” he said sharply, tugging Mikey to a halt. “Don’t start that shit with me. This isn’t your fault.” His voice softened. “Nothing bad happened to me, see? I’m fine. You didn’t start this, but even if you did, there’d be no harm done.”

Mikey sighed. “You’re technically dead, and you still need a guardian. Only you, Gee.”

Gerard gave him a look and waited for him to elaborate. 

“I never should have let this happen, okay?” said Mikey. “You’re all...” He pursed his lips, searching for the right word. “Well,” he said, “You’re naive, Gerard, I’ve gotta be honest with you. Do you really think you made it out of this unharmed?”

“Yes,” Gerard said warily. “Why?”

“Because you didn’t,” said Mikey, a little too sharply. “I saw you back there, with him. What the hell was that, Gee? He’s a _demon_ -”

“Woah, woah, woah,” said Gerard. “Are you still mad about Frank?”

Mikey gave him an incredulous look. “Are you kidding? Of course I’m - Gerard, being around demons is dangerous enough, but getting _attached_ to them? You might as well just give them your soul and be done with it!”

“He’s my friend,” said Gerard, stung. “More than that. He saved my life.”

“No. _I_ saved your life, and I’m not going to let you kill yourself all over again. You can’t trust him.” Mikey resumed walking, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Gerard was following. “End of discussion.”

“Hey, no! You don’t get to do that!” Gerard said angrily. “Seriously, Mikey, I don’t care if it’s your job to be overprotective, you can’t just ignore me on this. Just because Frank is a demon doesn’t mean he can’t be trusted. He’s helping us prevent a war, isn’t he?”

“That doesn’t make him trustworthy. Not at all,” said Mikey. “The only reason he’s doing it is because a war would be bad for him, too. Or maybe he wants it to happen, and he’s only helping because we made a contract. Or maybe he’ll find a way out of it and choose not to help us at all. I know demons, Gee, way better than you do, and they don’t just _help_. They always stand to gain something.”

“Frank’s not like that,” Gerard said stubbornly. “He could’ve let me get hurt so many times, but he never did.”

“Gerard - see, this is my point!” said Mikey, frustrated. “That’s all it takes for you to trust him! As soon as somebody gives you the time of day, you’re ride or die with them. That might’ve worked for you in the Middle, but you’re not in the fucking Middle anymore. Things are different here.”

“Why won’t you listen?” Gerard demanded. “Why are you so determined to think I’m wrong? Listen to me, Mikes. Not as a protector, as my family. Why can’t you trust me?”

“I _am_ listening as your family. That’s why I can’t let you get hurt.”

“You - _no_ , Mikey. I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.” Gerard stopped walking again. Mikey continued on, but it became clear after a minute that Gerard wasn’t budging, so he sighed and turned around. 

“You would’ve listened to me if everything was normal,” Gerard said quietly. “Called me stupid, maybe, but you still would’ve listened.”

“I am listening,” Mikey said. “But all I’m hearing is you putting way too much faith in someone whose existence you can barely even comprehend. This is gonna end up hurting you, Gee. I know you too well.”

“Do you?” Gerard snapped. “‘Cause right now, I feel like I don’t know you at all.”

Mikey’s expression didn’t change. Gerard wished he would just react, give Gerard something to latch onto or to argue with. Gerard just wished he would act more _human_. He knew Mikey had been an angel all along, but with his combined revelation and new attitude, Gerard felt like he was talking to a stranger.

“I know,” said Mikey. “And I’m sorry. But we need to have this conversation another time, when we’re not fighting the clock.”

He turned back to the gates and kept walking. 

Gerard could barely form a coherent thought through his mess of conflicting emotions, much less a retort. He had to force himself to move in order to follow Mikey, one step after the other.

He had to force himself to remember why he wanted to.

***

Stationed in front of the gates ( _the pearly fucking gates_ , Gerard still hadn’t gotten over that), was a desk not unlike the ones before the various circles of the Under. The most noticeable difference was the man sitting behind it. Instead of black eyes or fangs, there was a wreath of bright golden light hovering above his head. 

And he had wings.

They were _huge_. Much bigger than Frank’s, Gerard couldn’t help noticing. They were folded neatly behind the man’s back, but they still stuck out above his head, and Gerard knew that if he extended them, they would be wider than he was tall.

He cast a surreptitious glance at Mikey’s back. He couldn’t see anything there, but hidden beneath layers of enchantment, he knew there must be a similar pair of wings. 

That was fucking weird to think about. 

The man still hadn’t said a word, staring slack-jawed at Mikey and Gerard. 

“Y-you found him,” he stammered out. “Holy _shit_! What happened?” At once, he was on his feet, pushing his way around the desk so he could gawk at Gerard more closely. 

“Long story,” said Mikey. “We need to talk to Gabe. Like, right now.”

“You got it,” the man said, still staring at Gerard. He snapped his fingers, and the gates slowly swung open. 

“Thanks, Bill,” Mikey said quickly, before tugging Gerard through. Instead of a sudden change of scenery like what Gerard would have experienced traveling through a gate in the Under, a path stretched out before them, winding its way up a hill. The sides were grassy and covered with neatly-cut shrubs. A slight floral scent permeated the air. The mist outside the gates had vanished, but all around were thick, fluffy clouds at altitudes that definitely wouldn’t be possible in the Middle. 

Altogether, it felt like a scene from a magazine, or a neighborhood full of rich assholes.

Mikey led Gerard up the path, his pace quickening with every step. Gerard’s eyes followed the path upwards, trailing along each twist and turn until he found himself looking up, staring into the distance at what he could only call a castle.

“What is that?” he said, awed. The castle was enormous in every sense of the word. He could see the door even from far away; it must have been fifty feet high, and far above it, towers and swooping arches disappeared into the clouds. 

To his surprise, Mikey only rolled his eyes. “A douchebag’s power projection,” he grumbled. “And you haven’t even seen the inside yet.”

Gerard quirked an eyebrow, his interests piqued. 

“He _had_ to make the longest walkway north of the Middle,” Mikey said to himself. “Fuck this.”

“Can you teleport us up there?” Gerard asked cautiously. He wasn’t sure how similar the abilities of demons and angels were, but it felt like a safe bet. 

Mikey made a frustrated noise. “You’d think! But no, he had to put _barriers_ on it. Makes it really hard to get ahold of him when you need to. I guess that’s the point, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“Who’s ‘he?’” Gerard asked. 

“Gabriel,” said Mikey, as if this should be obvious. 

Gerard nodded. He was still confused, but not confused enough to ask more questions. He was still pissed off at Mikey, and there was a certain tension that lingered between the two of them, like they could burst into another fight at any minute. 

“He’s an archangel,” Mikey explained. “But, more importantly, he’s a dick.” 

Gerard continued on, bemused, as Mikey led him toward the castle.

No matter how long they walked, it never seemed to feel like they were getting anywhere. The castle loomed far in the distance, ever-present, but never drawing any closer. They must have walked for an hour without making any visible progress. It was funny; Gerard had probably walked more since he had died than he had over the course of his entire life. 

When they finally did make progress, it happened all at once. Gerard would look up, and suddenly, the castle was much closer. The first time it happened, he startled, and Mikey gave him an amused look. “One of Gabe’s tricks,” he said. “We’ll get there in a while. Just hang tight for a bit.” After a while, Gerard got used to it, and he began to anticipate the moment in which he would blink, and the castle would jump closer to them.

It was almost enough to distract him from the distance, but not quite. He felt like his feet were going to fall off by the time they made it to the door. 

“Fucking finally,” Mikey said under his breath. He laid his palm against the door. The polished wood glowed beneath his fingers, and Gerard felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up before the door swung open. 

“C’mon,” Mikey said. “We’re almost there. Now we just have to find him.” He hurried through the door. Gerard was hot on his heels, but it took great effort to keep up his pace when he saw the grand hallway they had entered. He wanted to stop and stare, to drink in all the details; the stained glass that threw brilliant colors down to the ornate rug on the floor, the accents of gold and pearl, and the books, everywhere _books_. A faded tome was sitting half-open on a table pushed up to the wall. Gerard craned his neck to see the text, but with Mikey already sweeping down the hall, he was forced to give up the effort. Next time, he promised himself. 

“Gabe?” Mikey shouted. He threw open doors and stuck his head inside, only to retreat and try again with a different door. “Where are you?”

He took a step inside another room, and a tall guy with not one, but two sets of wings appeared directly behind him. He made eye contact with Gerard and held a finger to his lips. 

Mikey turned around just in time for the man to shout, “Boo!”

Gerard jumped nearly a foot, while Mikey barely reacted. 

“Gabe,” he said, relieved. “Thank God, I’ve been looking for -”

“Me? I know you have. Petey saw you at the gates, he flew in to let me know,” said Gabe, his grin dazzling. “I heard you found Gee! I’ve been _dying_ to meet him, you’ve got no idea.” He turned to Gerard and sized him up, raising an eyebrow and nodding with what Gerard thought was approval. “So, you’re the little bro, huh? Not too shabby. I gotta say, I was picturing glasses. For that nerdy artist vibe, y’know? But you’re good, you’re cute. I think you’ll fit right i -”

“What do you mean, Pete flew in?” Mikey interrupted. 

“I mean he teleported inside to give me the news,” Gabe said patiently, as if he were explaining a very simple concept to a very dense five-year old. “I only put the barriers up for people who like to waste my time.”

“This isn’t a waste of time,” said Mikey, the slightest hint of annoyance audible in his voice. “Actually, it’s kind of a big fucking deal -”

“Hey, hey, shh,” Gabe said soothingly. “I know. The big bad demons took your brother. We’re gonna kick their asses, don’t worry. I’ve got Greta gathering the troops right now.”

Mikey blanched. “No, thats - Gabe, that’s what I need to talk to you about. We can’t fight them, it’s a trap!”

Gabe frowned. “How could it be a trap? We’ve got to fight them, they -”

“You don’t,” Gerard said, quietly at first, then with more force. “You don’t have to fight them, that’s what Mikey’s saying! Just listen to him, please.” He didn’t sound as convincing as he would have liked, but it was hard not to be intimidated when looking at Gabe. Even if you took away the halo and wings, he had a certain cockiness about him, and an inexplicable aura of power. Standing near him felt like getting too close to a live wire. The air was charged with electricity; if you touched him, you might short-circuit. 

“Oh, Gee,” said Gabe, shaking his head. “You’re new here, I get it. But sometimes in life you just have to -”

“He’s right,” Mikey interrupted. “He’s absolutely right. They were specifically coming after me, Gabe, using Gerard as bait so they could start a fight. They’ll wait for us to throw the first punch, and then it’s war. We can’t afford a fight on that scale. It’d destroy the Middle.”

Gabe’s smile vanished. 

“Well, shit,” he said. “That puts a bit of a damper on things.” He snapped his fingers, and a second angel appeared at his side, this one a good foot shorter, and with only one pair of wings. 

“Mikey!” he said, eyes bright. “Hope you don’t mind me beating you inside, I thought you might want -”

“You’re an asshole, Pete,” Mikey said, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Pete’s face fell, and his wings drooped slightly, but Gabe gave him an encouraging punch in the shoulder. “We made a bit of a mess,” he said lightly. “But it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. I’m gonna need you to go tell Greta and Sisky to stand down. Have them wait for orders from me, got it?” 

“Okay,” said a bewildered-looking Pete. “I’ll just… be going, then?” Gabe nodded, and Pete gave a quick flap of his wings, glancing over at Gerard. “Hi!” he said, flashing a brief grin. “Nice to meet you! We can do introductions later, though, I’ve gotta dash.” He waved, and like that, he was gone.

“So,” said Gabe. A chair materialized in front of him, and he swung it around so he could straddle the back. “Tell me about this trap.”

***

At first, Gerard thought they were doomed. It was clear that Gabe wasn’t used to being contradicted; whenever Mikey tried to make a point, it took a few minutes for Gabe to shut up and listen instead of arguing its plausibility. But once he got past the disbelief, things began to fall into place. Mikey omitted the relationship between Gerard and Frank, but the rest of his story was accurate, and the magnitude of their situation was made crystal clear.

“What’s gonna happen if we back down?” Gabe said warily. “There’s no way they’ll just give up. If they want a fight, they’ll get it in the end.”

“They won’t,” Mikey said firmly. “The beliefs of humans are the only reason our realms exist. Even a demon can’t be stupid enough to risk a fight that could destroy the Middle - if there was nobody left to believe in us, we’d be done for.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Clap if you believe in fairies and all that shit,” said Gabe. “But if we don’t stop them, they’re just gonna keep on killing our charges.”

“We’ll make it work,” said Gerard. “We’re going to try and negotiate with them.”

Gabe took one look at him and burst out laughing. 

“ _Negotiate_? With _demons_? Honey, they don’t know the meaning of the word. I doubt you could get two seconds into a peace meeting before the knives came out.”

“It could work,” said Mikey. “The demon who brought Gerard up, I sent him down to try and find people willing to compromise. Bound him to it, too.” Gerard knew he still didn’t trust Frank, but at the moment, the most important thing to do was convince Gabe they had a chance. 

“Are you serious?” Gabe said with disbelief. “He won’t do it. He’ll find a way out.”

Gerard bristled. “He won’t! And his name is Frank, he’s not just -”

“Frank Iero?” Gabe said, his jaw dropping. “You mean that tiny fucker who went rogue? Holy shit!”

Gerard nodded. “He’s not like other demons. He saved my life, and no matter what you think, he’s not going to break his word. He doesn’t want to fight any more than we do.”

Gabe cast a shrewd look at Mikey. “You buy this shit?”

Mikey shifted uncomfortably. “I… Well, not really. But he’s our best shot, I think. The only thing we can do is work with him. As long as we don’t put too much faith in him, it’ll be better than outright war.”

Gabe nodded thoughtfully. He was quiet for a minute, his wings swaying gently as he stared into space.

“That’s true,” he finally said. “I’ll keep the troops on standby, then, but for now, the party’s cancelled.”

Gerard let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding. 

Gabe stood up, the ring around his head glowing brighter, seeming almost authoritative. “You go sort shit out with Frank,” he ordered. “I’ll let people know what’s going on, and see if I can get a team together to negotiate. If anything changes, let me know.”

Mikey ducked his head. “I will.”

“Is this the part where we teleport away?” Gerard said tentatively. Mikey grinned at him, and he couldn’t help but do the same. “Oh, fuck yes. You’re like a superhero, you know that? I can’t believe you had sick powers all this time and you never told me -”

“Shut up, you absolute fucking dork,” said Mikey. He grabbed onto Gerard’s sleeve, and they were whirled away.

***

Gerard stumbled as they reappeared, barely managing to right himself before he tripped and fell into the grass. He straightened up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. Since the last time he had set foot in the field, the weather had changed. Before, it had been bright and sunny, but now, a gray layer of clouds had flooded in, and the heather at his feet seemed duller, somehow. 

Apart from him and Mikey, the field was empty. 

“Do we just wait?” he said aloud.

“That’s what we’ll have to do,” Mikey said, his voice clipped. 

Gerard looked back and forth, hoping Frank would suddenly appear, but there was no sign of him. Gerard waited a few more minutes before sitting down on the ground.

“Time runs slow down there,” he said, mostly to himself. “I hope it doesn’t take him too long.”

“We just have to wait and see,” Mikey said again. He wasn’t nearly as relaxed as Gerard. He stayed on his feet, keeping a constant watch on the area around them. After standing still as a statue for ten consecutive minutes, he cursed and rubbed his eyes. “Fuck, this was so stupid. We’ll never be able to tell if he bailed or if it’s just taking too long. _Fuck_.”

“He won’t bail,” Gerard said confidently. “He’ll be here.”

Mikey sighed. “If he doesn’t show, we’re seriously -”

“Fucked,” Frank supplied. “Yeah, you would be. Too bad I decided to stop by.”

“Frank!” Gerard scrambled to his feet, and before he knew it, he had darted forward and thrown his arms around Frank, squeezing him in a tight hug.”Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed. “Did everything go okay?” He pulled back, his hands resting on Frank’s shoulders, and scanned his face for any sign of hurt. Frank’s black eyes glittered with amusement, and, if Gerard wasn’t imagining things, affection. 

“I’m fine, Gee,” he said. “Did everything go okay with you?”

“Yes,” said Mikey, somehow even stiffer than before. “The angels will stand down as long as you do. Gabriel’s on his way.”

“Sounds good,” said Frank. “I’m not allowed to handle this on my own, so I’ve got a few bigshots coming, too.” 

A moment later, a man clad in black robes and a hood popped into being beside Frank. He tugged the hood down, and Gerard recognized him as the ferryman who had taken them across the river to the City of Dis. 

“Archangel,” he said. His voice was laced with suspicion.

“His name’s Mikey,” said Gerard, frowning. 

“It’s Michael, actually,” said Mikey. The man only nodded. 

“This is Bob,” Frank said helpfully. “Quinn and Cortez should be showing up soon, too.”

“I know Gabe’s coming, but I’m not sure who else,” said Mikey. “Probably two or three others.”

“So it’ll be about even, then,” Frank said with a nod.

“What’ll be even?” asked a second man, bleach-blond and black-eyed, who had just appeared between Frank and Bob. 

“Hey, Quinn,” said Frank. “This is Gerard, that’s Mikey, and - oh, hey Cortez, what’s up?” A third demon had popped up in their midst. “Anyway, that’s Gerard, that’s Mikey, and we’re waiting on the other angels.”

“It’s Michael,” Mikey said flatly. 

“Mikey,” Frank repeated, wearing the biggest shit-eating grin Gerard had ever seen. He giggled in spite of himself. Mikey just glared at him. 

“So, what’s our plan?” asked the demon Frank had introduced as Quinn. “We gather ‘round the fire and sing Kumbaya?”

“We lay down our goals and make a compromise,” said Mikey, giving Quinn a hard look. “The purpose of this meeting is to reach a peaceful conclusion. Any funny business, and -”

“Woah, hey,” Frank said quickly. “I got that covered. They’re all bound to nonviolence, see?” Each of the demons raised a hand, and they glowed in unison. Mikey still looked suspicious, but he said nothing further. 

There was a _pop_ , and Gabe appeared to sling his arm around Mikey’s shoulder. “Well, ain’t this a festive gathering?” he said brightly. “What have I missed?” Two more angels appeared by his side in rapid succession. Their wings were tucked neatly behind their backs. One of them, the one Mikey had called Pete, carried a scroll beneath one arm. 

“Looks like we’re all here, then,” said Gabe, surveying the group. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes. Now, you guys are easy to please, right?” said Frank. “You just want to avoid fighting. That’s understandable; we don’t want to fight either. But some people,” he glanced at Quinn, “Have a bit of an issue with the current situation in the Middle. They’re willing to fight over it, even though that’s a completely stupid idea.”

“It’s not _just_ me,” Quinn said irritably. 

“Yeah, well. The fact remains, a few people think the system of interdimensional contact is bullshit,” said Frank. “So that’s one thing we need to fix.”

“System of interdimensional contact?” Gerard asked timidly. He didn’t want to interrupt such an obviously important discussion, but he didn’t want to stand by in confusion, either. He had no idea what was being discussed. 

“The rules about demons and angels going to the Middle,” said Frank. “You know, the vessel system. Me and Mikey explained it before. Demons get powerful bodies that burn out quick, angels get long-lasting ones that aren’t so strong, blah blah blah.”

“That’s the part that’s bullshit,” said Quinn, pointing to Mikey. “That whole ‘limited power’ thing. I get that you sacrifice strength in order to stay so long, but the way I see it, that gives you a huge fuckin’ advantage over someone who can’t stay more than a day without their vessel’s eyes melting.” He scowled. “Balance of power, my ass. It’s rigged for you feather-heads.”

Pete scribbled something down on his scroll. “What do you wanna do about it?” He smiled a bit nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. “I mean… We can make a treaty, yeah, but we can’t exactly alter the mechanics of our dimension.”

“Sure you can. You’ve got the big man on your side, don’t you?”

Pete grimaced. “No more than you do.”

Quinn paused. “You don’t have a God up there?”

Pete shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not. I’ve never seen Him. Do you guys have a devil?”

“That’s none of your business,” Quinn grumbled, averting his eyes. The implied _no_ was clear enough for even Gerard to understand.

“So, to the extent of our knowledge, we’re on our own,” said Mikey. “Where does that leave us? We can’t change how angels interact with the Middle, so what _can_ we do?”

“You know,” a new voice drawled. “I think you’ve got a fundamental misunderstanding of what we want.”

Gerard’s spine stiffened. Mikey and Frank both leapt to his side, Frank’s knife instantly drawn.

“My, my. Someone’s jumpy,” said Bert. He stretched his arms, nodding to the other demons. “‘Sup, guys. You here for the meeting?”

“You know what they’re here for,” Frank snapped. “Why are _you_ here?”

Bert ignored him, his eyes alighting instead on Mikey. “Mikey!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, it’s been too long! When was the last time we saw each other? The house fire? Shit, that was years ago. How’s it going?”

Mikey just stared. Gerard could see the incredulity at Bert’s nerve, but it was quickly replaced by anger. The air behind him shimmered, and Gerard caught a flash of white feathers before Mikey shook himself, regaining control. 

“You killed my brother,” he said quietly. “That was you.” He was eerily calm, but Gerard could see his rage, no, he could _feel_ it, burning just below the surface. He would never want to be on the receiving end of it. Bert didn’t seem bothered, though. He just grinned, shrugging as Mikey took a step closer.

“Yeah. But it all worked out fine, didn’t it? Just one little piece in a grand puzzle. I’ll admit, it didn’t go _exactly_ as planned,” he said, giving Frank an amused look, “But we got here just the same.”

“Hey,” Gabe said sharply. “You’re not supposed to be here. Work on negotiations with us or fuck off.”

“Just fuck off,” Frank corrected. “He’s got no place negotiating for peace when he’s the one who nearly began the war.”

Bert scowled. “It doesn’t need to be a war. If the bible camp counselors over here just agreed to give up some of their power -”

“That’s impossible,” Pete interrupted. “We’ve already established that we can’t change the vessel system. It’s out of our control.”

“I didn’t say anything about the vessel system.”

Pete blinked, his pen hovering over the surface of his scroll. “I… oh. Well, if that’s not what you want, what _do_ you want?”

Bert grinned, shark-like, with all his teeth on display. “I want the angels gone.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Gone, as in what?” Gabe said slowly. “If that was a threat -”

“Oh, I’d certainly love to see you all dead, but it doesn’t have to be that way. I just want you _gone_. Out of my sight. Out of the Middle,” Bert said simply. 

His words caused instant uproar. 

“You can’t ask for that -”

“Out of the _Middle_?”

“Are you crazy?”

“That’s fucking stupid,” Frank said furiously. “How the hell would that uphold the balance of power? You’d have to kick the demons out, too!”

“I wouldn’t have a problem with that,” said Bert. And just like that, it was silent once more. 

“You don’t mean that,” said Frank.

“Oh, but I do,” Bert purred. “Angels cause us more trouble than they’re worth, Frankie. You of all people should know that. Always interfering in our contracts, guiding humans away from sin, where’s the fun in _that_? I’d do anything to never have to see a halo again.”

“It’s still impossible,” said Pete. 

“Actually, it’s not!” Bert said cheerfully. “It would only take a contract. Not to brag, but I’m something of a powerhouse, and I think Cortez here specializes in magic?” Cortez nodded. “Ah, see, there we go! All we need is an agreement, and we’ll have peace in our time!”

“You asshole,” Frank said through gritted teeth.

Pete had gone pale. “This - this isn’t something we can agree to. Our charges, we -”

“They’d be fine without you,” Bert said dismissively. “There are tons of humans without guardians, they get by.”

Quinn coughed quietly and tapped Bert on the shoulder. He mumbled something about contracts, but Bert just waved him off. A spark had lit up in his obsidian eyes, and it was becoming frighteningly clear that he wasn’t going to back down. “It wouldn’t be so bad,” he coaxed. “Better than destroying the Middle outright, hmm?”

“You lay one finger on the human realm, and you’ll have us to answer to,” Mikey hissed. 

Bert snorted. “Any move you make to destroy us will wipe out most of the human population, too. Try it, I dare you.”

Frank was still standing slightly in front of Gerard. One of his hands hovered at Gerard’s wrist, nearly touching, but not quite; it felt like a warning. A message to stay back. 

“Your move,” Bert said sweetly. 

Gerard shook his head. When he spoke, it felt as if a stranger were speaking for him. “You can’t do this. You can’t just bet the fate of an entire dimension when you aren’t getting your way! It’s -” _It’s unbelievable_ , he wanted to say. _How petty you are. How fucking childish._ But the glint in Bert’s eye said he knew it all, and if Gerard dared to open his mouth again, he’d never get the chance to finish that sentence. 

“Give us a minute,” Gabe said shortly. He pulled back, and his wings unfurled in one rapid motion. Gerard blinked, and the angels were huddled in a group hundreds of feet away. He shivered. It felt colder without them, and he could still feel Bert’s gaze itching at him.

“Come on,” Frank murmured. He pulled Gerard away from where the demons were convening. 

They stood between the forces of heaven and hell, Gerard clinging to Frank’s hand. He had never felt more human than he did in that moment. It was a feeling of powerlessness, of being small beyond measure. There they were, caught on the fine line between salvation and destruction, and Gerard had no idea which way the chips would fall.

“It’ll be okay,” Frank said quietly. 

Gerard nodded mutely. He couldn’t bring himself to argue. He knew all too well that things might _not_ be okay, but at the moment, he would take whatever comfort he could get, if it meant he could postpone the terrifying reality of their situation for a moment longer. 

One by one, he saw the angels begin to drift back toward the demons. Mikey brought up the rear of the group. He wasn’t smiling. Normally, that wouldn’t have been enough to worry Gerard, but Mikey looked defeated beyond anything else.

Gerard’s heart plunged into his stomach. 

He vaguely registered a mumbled “Shit” from Frank before they were rejoining the group. 

“I gotta hand it to you, man. You sure love to make things difficult,” said Gabe, eyeing Bert. “You really are forcing our hands, then?”

“Oh, I’m not forcing anything. It’s your own decision,” said Bert. 

“Bullshit,” Frank snapped. “You aren’t giving them much of a choice.”

Bert’s eyes flicked over to Frank, and something in his look sent a chill down Gerard’s spine. 

“Don’t know why you’re getting so fussy, Frank,” Bert said softly. “You can’t pretend to care forever.”

Frank froze. 

“Your little act… It’s cute,” said Bert. The ghost of a smile played at his lips. “But there’s no need to keep it up. You already got what you wanted.”

“Fuck you,” Frank said stiffly. “Fuck you, man, seriously. Don’t go there.”

Bert shook his head, not even trying to mask his smirk anymore. “Oh, Frankie. _Frankie_.” He took a step closer, and Frank backed away, bumping into Gerard. His muscles were tense, taut beneath his skin, but not in the way Gerard had become familiar with, when Frank was ready to leap into a fight. 

He looked ready to turn and run. 

“You mean to tell me that you actually _do_ care about this angel’s pet?” Bert asked, inclining his head to Gerard. “That I’ve been right about you all along?” Frank was silent, and Bert laughed. “It’d be so ironic… But don’t think you can fool me. I’m surprised you fooled _him_. You’re lucky you landed with a human stupid enough to put faith in you.”

“Shut up,” said Gerard, surprised at the ferocity that suddenly flared up within him. “You - you shut your mouth, you don’t know anything about him!” 

“Oh, don’t I?” asked Bert, amused. “Funny. I could say the same thing to you.” He lowered his voice as if sharing a secret. “You know you never needed to go to the ninth circle, right?”

That was when Frank snapped. He launched himself at Bert, blade drawn and sharper than ever, but Mikey knocked him back.

“This is a peace meeting,” he barked. “If you want to fight, take it elsewhere.”

Bert continued as if nothing had happened. It was like the house lights dimmed, narrowing the focus to him and Frank; he had everyone captivated, and he knew it. He lowered his voice as he spoke, a storyteller weaving his malicious tale. “Frank’s pretty weak by demonic standards, you know that? Only third tier. Always trying to crawl his way up the ladder, but never quite making it.” He clucked his tongue in mock sympathy. “Poor, poor Frankie. Trading in a blessed soul _would_ be the only way you could get yourself promoted, huh? You’d never be strong enough for anything else.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Frank said, grabbing onto Gerard’s shoulder. “He’s lying, he’s -”

“Am I?” Bert mused. “Am I _really_?”

Gerard just stared at him. Of course he was lying; he had to be. But there was something about what he had said that rubbed Gerard the wrong way. 

“Why _did_ you say we needed to go to the ninth circle?” he asked Frank. His brow furrowed as he thought it over. “You said there was a portal, or something like that… But you ended up taking me to the Middle with no problem.”

“It’s easier to travel from the later circles,” Frank said quickly. “The ninth would have been easiest, but the eighth worked in our circumsta -”

“Frankie,” Bert sang. “Better to just fess up now!”

“Shut your mouth,” Frank seethed. “We’ve got better things to do than listen to your bullshit.”

“But doesn’t Gee deserve to know the truth?” Bert asked, eyes wide.

“Don’t call him that,” Frank and Mikey said in unison. 

“I don’t know why you’re so determined to keep him on your side,” said Bert, his cheerful attitude finally dissolving into a frown. “You got your promotion. What’s in it for you now?”

“Promotion?” Gerard echoed. 

“Yeah!” said Bert, delighted. “Our little Frankie got moved up to fourth tier! That’s the only reason he was able to travel to the Middle; third tiers aren’t strong enough. He was never _really_ going to bring you home.”

“But he did bring me home,” said Gerard, confused. Frank started to say something, but Bert cut him off.

“Well, of course he did. He didn’t want to get his ass kicked by an archangel. But that was never the original plan.”

“Shut up,” Frank said, his voice shaking with anger or fear. Gerard couldn’t tell which it was. “Shut _up_ , this has nothing to do with you!”

“No, keep talking,” Mikey growled. “I want to see where this is going.” He was looking at Frank instead of Bert, an unspoken threat written clearly across his face. 

Bert was unbothered by the tension; in fact, he was basking in it. “I don’t know exactly what was going through his head, but it’s easy enough to guess,” he said. “Frank meets Gerard, sees an opportunity, and wins his trust - only to drag him away to the higher-ups in the hopes of moving up a tier! But…” He paused. “You never got there. How’d you manage to move up without turning him in?”

Gerard looked to Frank. He was trying his best to ignore Bert’s story, but with every passing word, doubt threatened to creep into his mind. “Frank?” he whispered. “What’s he talking about?”

Frank wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Oh,” Bert said softly. “Oh, isn’t that just delicious.”

“What is?” Mikey said suspiciously. 

Bert giggled. “You guys hooked up, didn’t you?” He looked back and forth between Frank and Gerard, grinning broadly. “Oh, _please_ tell me I’m right. That’d be hilarious. I’m right, aren’t I? I can see it in your faces.The way you look at each other, _ooh_.” He shivered with pleasure. “Way to go, Frankie!” 

“We didn’t _hook up_ ,” Frank snarled. “It’s not like that!”

Bert raised an eyebrow. “Well, you took advantage of him, didn’t you? That’d be nasty enough to bump you up a tier.”

“I - I didn’t do that, asshole, I wouldn’t -”

“Then where’d the wings come from?” Bert demanded. “News flash, kiddo, but third-tiers didn’t have _wings_ the last time I checked. You moved up. How?”

Gerard’s eyes landed on Frank’s back against his will. There were two slits cut into the back of his shirt. Beneath the glamour, Gerard knew that a pair of black wings would be poking through. It had taken him so long to notice them, but they were definitely there; he remembered them.

Why had it taken so long for him to notice?

“Frank,” he said shakily. “What’s he talking about?”

He remembered that first moment; Frank’s back pressed to the wall, his sudden jolt before he’d taken his shirt off to reveal his wings. At the time, Gerard had taken his curse for an exclamation of pain, that maybe his wings had gotten crushed against the stone or something. 

But looking back, he’d seemed more surprised than hurt. 

Like the wings had just appeared.

“So, let me get this straight,” said Bert, clearly enjoying himself. “You set off toward the ninth circle with one plan in mind. But ooh, this human likes you! You decide to string him along, and get yourself a nice little power boost in return. Isn’t that just lovely. Damn, if you’d traded him in after that, you might’ve ended up as strong as me!”

“I wasn’t going to,” Frank snapped. “I couldn’t! Not after -”

“Not after what?” Bert challenged. “Are you telling me you… changed your mind? That you originally _were_ going to fork him over?”

His words hung on the air. Frank was breathing hard, but he just shook his head, unable to form words. Gerard knew that look. He’d worn it himself when Mikey had walked in on him holding an empty bottle, when he’d found the pills under his mattress, when he’d finally admitted that he couldn’t pay his own rent anymore. 

It was the look of someone caught red-handed. 

“It’s not true,” Gerard whispered. “Frank. Tell me it’s not true.” He touched a hand to Frank’s shoulder, and Frank flinched. He still wouldn’t look directly at Gerard.

“Frank,” Gerard said again.

Frank drew a sharp breath in. “Don’t.”

“He’s lying,” said Gerard, sounding desperate even to his own ears. “Come on, he’s lying, isn’t he?” Frank was silent. Gerard tugged at his sleeve, willing him to say something, or to just look up, for fuck’s sake. 

He opened his mouth to plead once more when Frank shrugged him off, taking a step away. “Don’t make me say it,” he said, his eyes cast toward the ground. “Don’t make me fucking say it, Gee. Just let it go.”

His words felt like a shard of ice that pierced Gerard’s heart. There was no denial in them. Guilt, maybe. Who knew? If Frank had lied about his intentions from the very beginning, there was no way to tell what he was really feeling. 

Gerard could barely believe it, but the set of Frank’s shoulders told him everything he needed to know. 

“You lied,” he said. “You _lied_ to me.” Jesus, how could he have been so stupid? The signs had all been there. Frank was a demon; deceit was in his nature. Gerard should’ve kept his distance. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t be standing with a foot of space between him and Frank that felt more like a mile, the corners of his eyes beginning to sting. 

Mikey wrapped one arm around him and pulled him back. Gerard latched onto him, wishing they were alone so he could properly apologize. _You were right_ , he wanted to say. _I’m sorry I didn’t listen_. 

But Mikey only gave him a quick pat on the back before stalking toward Frank, the air around him rippling with electricity. He raised his hand -

And Gabe grabbed onto the back of his shirt and hauled him back. 

And with that, the moment was broken. Gabe muttered something to Mikey in an unfamiliar tongue, and Mikey scowled, but made no further moves. Gabe patted him on the back and nudged him back toward Gerard. 

“All right,” he said, his previous lightness long gone. His mouth was set in a thin line, his chin held high; he was all business now. He looked every bit the divine power Gerard knew him to be. “We’ve gotten really fucking derailed, but our original purpose still stands. Frank, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave so we can get something constructive done.”

That got Frank to look up. “What? I’m the only person here who genuinely doesn’t want to screw you over!” Gerard avoided looking at him. He wished he could put his hands over his ears, do something, anything to forget that Frank was standing beside him. He wanted to leave. His head was beginning to hurt from the swirl of thoughts and emotions raging within him, and having Frank so close by only made things worse. 

“Forgive us for doubting the authenticity of that statement,” Gabe said coldly. “Get the hell out, Iero.”

“But I -”

“I don’t care. Get out.”

“That’s right, Frankie,” Bert said, every part of him radiating smugness. “Best hurry on home now.”

“You too,” Gabe said sharply. “I don’t know what the fuck the deal between you two is, but it’s getting in the way. I want both of you out of my sight, or so help me God, you’ll be tasting your own intestines.”

Bert clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “That’s awfully violent for an angel.”

“Out. _Now_.”

Gerard tried not to look at Frank. He really did. But he could feel Frank watching him, and it only took a moment for his resolve to break. Frank stared back at him, his desperation plain for the world to see.

“Gerard,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I swear, if they just let me explain -”

“Do you need to be told again to get the fuck out of here? You aren’t wanted!” Mikey snarled. “Now fuck off before you ruin anything else!”

Frank drew back, stricken, and stepped right into Bert’s outstretched hand. Bert gripped his shoulder and held it tight. “Let’s go,” he purred. 

Frank had barely wrenched his shoulder away before they disappeared. Gerard tore his eyes away from the spot they had formerly occupied, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. This was what he had wanted. Frank was gone. 

It wasn’t the type of relief he had expected. Frank’s absence gave him space to breathe, yes, but it also made his chest heavy, like a weight had been added instead of taken away. 

“Right,” Pete said briskly. “Back to business. How does everyone feel about this idea of discontinuing demonic and angelic involvement in the Middle? It sounds like bullshit to me.”

Gerard heard Cortez respond, but the words flew through his ears too quickly for him to process them. He belatedly realized Mikey was holding onto him, with one arm wrapped around his shoulder. He supposed he needed it. It wasn’t that he was physically unable to support himself, but it exhausted him just to think about. Thinking about _anything_ was exhausting. There was no room left in his head. He wished that, just once, he could set aside matters of life and death and take a minute to exist in peace.

He wished he could just sleep. 

The angels conversed in low voices, or at least, they sounded low to Gerard. They might have been shouting. Actually, he thought they were; he could definitely see fangs bared on the side of the demons. But he wasn’t paying much attention. In fact, he was barely holding on. His ears were filled with static, and he could barely focus on anything, much less the details of the negotiations going on before him. 

It might have been minutes before they stopped talking. It might have been hours. Either way, it took a moment for Gerard to realize Mikey was looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting on a response to something that had been said. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Does that sound okay to you?” Mikey asked.

Gerard blinked. “I… don’t know.” He hoped he didn’t sound as dazed as he felt. 

Mikey just sighed. “Okay. Gabe, let’s do it.” The other archangel nodded, and Mikey let go of Gerard. “Don’t look, while we’re doing this,” he said quietly. “Seriously. Turn around, cover your eyes, cover your ears. Don’t look. No matter what.”

Gerard turned his back obediently. He wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, but the air was filled with a sudden pressure, like it held a newfound significance. It felt like magic. It felt like Lindsey’s shop times a thousand, with power hanging on every molecule.

Gerard hated how familiar that feeling had become. 

He could hear whispering now, all the demons and angels and numerous other voices he couldn’t place. They formed an endless murmur, a low chorus of sorcery that bewitched all who heard it, pulling any unsuspecting ears into a trance with their whispered incantations. Words blended into words, with layers of sound overlapping until Gerard wasn’t sure where one syllable ended and the next began. It was a steady stream of white noise pouring from the assembly just behind him. 

It took everything in his power not to turn around. 

He placed his hands over his eyes and fought off the urge to look over his shoulder. One twist of his head, and his curiosity would be abated. But Mikey had told him not to, and Gerard wasn’t stupid enough to disobey when he heard an order that gravely serious. He would stay put. He focused on the sound of his own breathing, but, upon realizing the sound was impossible to make out beneath the chanting of the demons and angels, focused on the feeling instead. 

_In, out._

Their voices swelled to a crescendo.

_In, out._

A blinding white light seared across Gerard’s vision, his fingers and eyelids doing nothing to obstruct it. 

_In, out._

He realized with a start that he could no longer feel himself breathing. His entire body thrummed with energy, like a bass note reverberating through him, the expansion and contraction of his lungs lost in the vibrations. 

_In, out._

_In..._

_Out._

***

Gerard tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, too jittery to sit still. This, the diner, Mikey sitting across from him; it felt too _normal_. He appreciated the tranquility after all the chaos he’d suffered through, but his body had grown accustomed to the constant adrenaline. He kept glancing up toward the door, half-ready to jump out of his seat and run from the slightest sign of danger. 

“Gerard,” Mikey said calmly. “Chill out.”

“I’m chill,” Gerard said. They both knew it was a lie. He didn’t care. 

Mikey didn’t take pity on him. “Look,” he said. “I know you’re still flipping your shit, and you’ve got the right to - note how I’m _not_ saying ‘I told you so.’” He gave Gerard a very pointed look. “But we can’t just talk around it. We’re gonna have to leave this place eventually, and I don’t wanna spend our last days here avoiding shit. I want to...” He hesitated. “Explain. Talk. Anything, really.”

“Wait, what?” said Gerard, confused. “What do you mean, we’ll have to leave?”

Mikey took a long sip of coffee. “How much of the meeting were you listening to?”

“After…” Gerard couldn’t bring himself to speak Frank’s name aloud. “After what happened?” he said instead. “Not much.”

Mikey set his mug down and stared at the tabletop. The dark polished wood had a sheen of lacquer over it, slightly tacky from repeated spills and washings. In any other situation, Gerard might’ve taken the time to examine the rest of the cafe. It was nice; cozy, but not stiflingly so. He could imagine himself drawing in one of the booths in the corner. But Mikey had been looking for a place to talk without being interrupted when he dragged Gerard inside, not a spot to settle in and sketch. 

Gerard had been avoiding the actual _talking_ part in favor of sipping from the steaming mug in front of him, but he knew Mikey would break him out of his shell eventually. 

“One week,” said Mikey.

Gerard blinked. “What?”

“One week. That’s how long we get. Demons can settle their contracts, angels say goodbye to their charges, then… poof.” Mikey wiggled his fingers. “We’re gone. There was a huge argument about it. I was against the idea of us leaving, but the others had a point. Demons and angels are always at each other’s throats. It’ll be better if we’re separate. And the humans can get by without us, they always have.”

Gerard’s mind reeled. “What? One week, then you’re _gone_? Mikey, that’s -”

“Shh,” Mikey said soothingly. “You’re coming with me, idiot, don’t worry.”

Gerard sat back, placing a hand over his thumping heart. “Christ,” he said. “God, I almost…”

Mikey smiled. “You’re technically dead, Gee. You can’t just hang around the Middle. Hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have to go to heaven with me. Seriously, did you think I’d just leave you behind? No way.”

Gerard flushed. “Sorry. I know you wouldn’t, I just… I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously,” said Mikey, amused. He took a sip of his own coffee, looking out the window into the quiet street. A comfortable silence fell between them.

“I’m sorry for arguing with you,” he finally said. “About Frank.”

Gerard winced. “No, you were right.” He wished Mikey hadn’t said his name. The betrayal was fresh in his mind, and it still stung to think about. He couldn’t even fully believe it yet; it hadn’t processed. But the fact remained that Frank was no longer his friend. “I shouldn’t have trusted him. I was stupid.”

“You were,” Mikey agreed. “But there was a lot going on. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Gerard almost laughed. ‘A lot going on’ was something of an understatement. He’d traveled between dimensions, found out his brother was an angel, and been thrown into the middle of a negotiation session that could save or destroy his entire world. It would’ve been enough to make any sane person irritable. 

“It’s fine. I shouldn’t have yelled, either. As long as I learn from it, right?” He gave a small smile. He didn’t want to think about Frank right now. The most important thing was that he set things right with Mikey. 

Mikey nodded. “Yeah. That’s what’s important. You gotta get some judgement skills; I can’t be around to save your life all the time.”

“Thought that was your job description?” said Gerard, raising an eyebrow. 

Mikey rolled his eyes. “After you’ve done it a few times, it gets a little old.”

Gerard almost laughed, but Mikey just looked at him; his expression too serious to be joking.

“Wait, have you seriously saved my life before?” Gerard asked, surprised.

“Yeah. You almost fell down a flight of stairs when you were six, and there was a car that definitely would’ve hit you a few years back if I hadn’t been around. And that’s only a couple of the times.”

“Wow,” said Gerard, slightly awed. He really shouldn’t have been surprised, but the idea was jarring. How could he have come so close to death without ever knowing it?

“Yeah.” Mikey smiled. “You’re welcome.”

Gerard exhaled slowly. He still hadn’t gotten used to the whole _guardian angel_ thing. Even after walking into the Above, he still felt himself denying it every time he looked at his brother. Mikey was no angel. He was just… Mikey.

And, in true brotherly fashion, he always seemed to know when Gerard needed a distraction. He knocked his coffee cup against Gerard’s. “So, we’ve got a week before we leave this mortal world forever. What do you wanna do with it?”

Gerard thought hard for a minute.

“We should watch _Star Wars_ ,” he said.

***

The last week of Gerard’s life was pretty fucking awesome. He didn’t have classes to go to, considering he’d been missing for years, and he and Mikey were free to do whatever they wanted. Literally. With Mikey’s angel powers, there were no limits. Well, almost none. Time travel wasn’t part of the package, unfortunately. What a fucking bummer. Gerard would’ve loved to see _Ziggy Stardust_ live.

“You know I was totally serious when I said you were like a superhero,” he had said.

“Yeah,” Mikey had replied. “You can be my sidekick.” Gerard had rolled his eyes, and then they’d continued on their wild adventure of teleportation and going places they shouldn’t. 

By the end of the week, though, things were more low-key. There was only so much you could do before all you wanted was to go home. Gerard was perfectly content to live out his last few hours huddled on the floor in the dark, with the TV lighting his and Mikey’s faces as they unashamedly quoted lines along with Mark Hamill.

They had just started _Attack of the Clones_ when they were interrupted.

Gerard had been feeling great, sitting in a pile of blankets with popcorn in his lap and Mikey at his side. It was a scene taken straight from their teenage years, and he couldn’t have imagined a better way to end the week, or to make him feel more at home.

Until a harried-looking angel appeared in the center of the room. His wings were thrown out wide, feathers sticking up at every angle, and it took only one wrong move before the television was knocked over with a loud _crash_. Gerard shrieked and spilled popcorn over the floor, while Mikey just looked disappointed.

“What the fuck, man?” he asked. 

“Sorry! Fuck, sorry about that. Really, I mean, wow.” Gabe looked down at the wrecked screen and winced. “My bad. Ouch. But we gotta get going, Mikey, c’mon. Duty calls.”

Gerard’s heart sank. Mikey had said they would leave at midnight; the time had flown by, but the clock certainly hadn’t struck twelve. It was still the evening. Hell, it was still light outside. Gerard looked to Mikey for an explanation, but was met with only a frown.

“The treaty doesn’t take effect for, like, nine hours,” said Mikey. “We don’t have to leave yet.” He made no move to extricate himself from the blanket pile. 

“Yes to the first bit, no to the second,” Gabe said darkly. “Things aren’t going exactly as planned. I’ll explain on the way, come on.” He held out his hand to help Mikey up.

Mikey looked coolly up at him, unmoving. “We’re not done with the movie yet, asshole. Whatever it is can wait.”

Gerard suddenly felt a rush of affection for his younger brother.

Gabe’s feathers puffed up with annoyance. “Don’t be an idiot. You’ll get to come back. But for now, you just need to come with me, okay?” He waved his hand impatiently.

“Why?”

“We have to take care of some issues.”

“I’m gonna need you to be more specific,” said Mikey.

Gabe pointedly inclined his head toward Gerard. 

Mikey scowled. “Whatever it is, you can say it in front of him.”

Gabe sighed and drew his wings in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. You know that demon who started all this? Well, since demons take advantage of literally any loophole you’ll fucking give them, he’s turned this little truce period violent.”

“What do you mean?” Mikey said sharply.

“I mean, there’s suddenly a lot more angels in the Middle than there usually are. They all want to take their last look, y’know? And there’s a lot more demons than normal, too.”

“Shit,” Mikey said under his breath. 

“It’s a powder keg waiting to explode, man,” said Gabe. “They’re targeting us. I think most of the demons are staying in their lanes, but that Bert guy’s got a crowd going, and they’re attacking people on sight. One of ‘em almost killed Joe _and_ his charge.”

“How much damage can they do in nine hours?” Mikey asked, shoving his blankets aside. Gerard swallowed a sigh. 

“Enough,” said Gabe. 

“Okay. Fine, I… Fuck.” Mikey’s hand fluttered by Gerard’s shoulder, caught by indecision before he finally reached out to touch. “I’m gonna be back,” he said. “I promise.” His gaze was searching, and Gerard got the feeling Mikey knew exactly how disappointed he was, and exactly how scared. Demons weren’t a race to be trifled with; he knew that now. Even if Mikey intended to return, he was leaping into a battle against people who wanted nothing more than to eradicate his kind - how could he guarantee his safety?

“I promise,” Mikey repeated firmly. 

“Okay,” Gerard whispered. He couldn’t believe it, not fully, but he didn’t want Mikey to worry about him. He couldn’t afford distractions when he was out saving the world. “Be back soon?”

“As soon as I can,” said Mikey. He grabbed onto Gabe’s hand and hauled himself up, not taking his eyes off Gerard. “Stay safe, Gee,” he said softly. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” Gerard said with difficulty. His instincts were screaming at him not to let Mikey go, not when there were so many things that could go wrong. Mikey could be hurt, he could be killed - _worse than killed_ , Frank’s voice echoed. Gerard couldn’t ask him to stay, not when there were people in danger, but the selfish part of him didn’t want _Mikey_ in danger.

He never got the chance to articulate his thoughts. Gabe placed a hand on Mikey’s shoulder, and they both vanished. 

The room felt colder without them. Gerard drew his blanket tighter around himself, eyeing the broken remains of their television. Mikey would probably be able to fix it with a snap of his fingers. Gerard would just have to wait until he was back, and then they could go back to sitting and laughing together.

Gerard rolled over onto his side.

He would just have to wait.

***

“Hi there,” said a cautious voice. “Oh - um. Sorry, were you asleep? I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Gerard sat bolt upright. Sitting in the corner of the room was a pint-sized angel, one of the same ones who’d been present at the peace meeting. Gerard couldn’t see wings sticking out of his back - he must’ve put a glamour on them, thank God. No more broken appliances in the Way household. 

At the sight of him fully awake, the angel relaxed. “Hi,” he chirped. “You’re Gerard, right?”

“Um… Yeah.” Gerard brushed his bangs out of his eyes, painfully aware of the fact that he’d just been caught napping on the floor. He wondered how long the angel had been watching. Hopefully not long enough for him to start snoring or something equally embarrassing. “And you are?”

“Pete,” the angel said promptly. “It’s fine that you don’t remember me, don’t worry. I’m one of Mikey’s friends; he sent me over to protect you. He didn’t want you here all by yourself.”

“Oh,” said Gerard. He’d been so caught up in his concern for Mikey, it hadn’t even occurred to him to worry about himself. The idea sent a twinge of fear through him. “I thought only angels were being targeted?”

Pete shrugged. “Yeah, but there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there? He thought it’d be best for you to have somebody with you. No offense, but it looks like you need it even if you _aren’t_ being attacked.” He eyed the popcorn on the floor, and Gerard felt his cheeks heat up.

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess in here,” he mumbled. “I, um, wasn’t really expecting -”

“Divine intervention?” Pete said cheerfully. “Well, no one ever does. It’s cool, Mikey’s told me all about your brotherly bonding sessions. You really bring out his inner geek.”

At that, Gerard was able to muster a smile. “I don’t know about ‘inner.’ He’s a geek through and through.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Pete said fondly. “He doesn’t really show it up there, though.” He pointed up to the ceiling. “He’s always gotta be the order to Gabe’s chaos. Super stoic. Down here, though, he’s different. Sweeter, I think.” 

“He’s still pretty stoic.”

“Well, yeah. But he watches nerd movies! And he goes to concerts! He cuts loose, man.” Pete paused. “I think he likes it down here better than he does up there, to be honest. Probably ‘cause of you. You’re like his happy place or something.”

If Pete was trying to get into Gerard’s good books, he knew exactly what to say. Gerard felt a little rush of pride. Despite the fact that Mikey was an archangel possibly a hundred times his age, he’d never be able to erase the fact that Mikey was his little brother, and making him happy was one of Gerard’s key priorities. He tried not to make it obvious, but the broad grin on his face gave him away in an instant. Pete gave him a knowing look. Gerard blushed and looked away.

“You just said that to make me feel better,” he said.

“Yep. That doesn’t make it any less true, though,” said Pete. “I’m sure he’d rather be here supporting you through the breakup pains than slicing up demons.”

Gerard’s smile vanished instantly. “The _what_?”

“The breakup pains,” Pete said earnestly. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not judging! Hell, I’d be upset if the guy I liked was just using me to get power. I totally get where you’re coming from.”

Gerard winced. “Yeah, that… did _not_ help.” He pulled his blankets off and started brushing the spilled popcorn back into its bowl. Anything to avoid looking at Pete. Just when his mood had been beginning to improve, it had taken a plunge once more. He still didn’t want to think about Frank. With all that was going on, it was too much. He knew he’d have to face it eventually, but right now, the only thing he wanted to do was focus on Mikey. “Look, I know Mikey said I needed protection or whatever, but I don’t need an emotional intervention. I made a mistake; I know that. But I’m fine. I can deal with it myself. And I don’t even know you, anyway.”

“Fine, fine,” Pete said, looking slightly disappointed. “You kind of do know me, though. Mikey took you to a party I was at, once, I think. Just saying. We’re not total strangers.”

Now that he thought about it, Gerard did remember meeting someone who looked an awful lot like Pete, minus the halo and wings. But it had been brief; not really enough to say they knew each other. “We kind of are strangers, though,” he said. “I met you once, so what? I thought you were human back then. I wasn’t meeting the _real_ you.”

Pete frowned. “You think it’s not the real me just because I’m acting human?”

Gerard blinked. “Well… yeah.”

Pete shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, dude. It’s just like…” He paused to think. “You have to censor yourself when you’re at work, right? No swearing, no personal talk. That’s what it’s like for an angel to act human. It’s not that we’re pretending to be someone else, we’re just hiding specific parts of ourselves. Does that make sense?”

Gerard hadn’t actually thought of it like that before. It still bugged him, though. “‘Hiding parts of yourselves’ is still lying,” he said.

Pete shrugged. “It kind of is, but the only thing we really lie about is the fact that we’re not human. The rest is genuine. In a lot of ways, we can actually be more true to ourselves than we would be in the Above. Like with Mikey.”

“But he hid so much from me,” said Gerard. “Being an angel isn’t a tiny detail, it’s - it’s a big deal, Pete! It’s such a huge part of his life, and I never knew about it.” He didn’t mean to sound upset, but there was a definite note of misery to his words. 

“But there’s just as much of his life that you _do_ know,” Pete pointed out. “Better than anyone else, I’d say. If he was allowed to tell you, he would have.”

“I just feel like none of that was real,” Gerard murmured. “Like the Mikey I knew was just a lie, you know? And now that version of him is gone.”

“He’s not gone,” said Pete. “You’re just seeing a different side of him now. That’s not something you should worry about, dude; you should take advantage of it. Celebrate it. Now his secret’s out, you two are closer than you’ve ever been.” He gave an encouraging smile. 

Gerard really didn’t know what to say to that.

He twisted the hem of his t-shirt and frowned, taking a minute to think. The room was silent, but it wasn’t awkward; it was more patient, like Pete was giving him all the time he needed to figure things out. Gerard didn’t think there was enough time in the world for him to fully sort out his thoughts, but he did feel better than he had before he and Pete had started talking. Maybe Pete had a point. 

Gerard and Mikey had always been closer than most brothers were. And Mikey had been different from other kids; not smarter, but wiser, somehow. While others would converse, he would sit quietly by. Gerard had often wondered what was running through his head during those times. Mikey was a weird kid, that was for sure. But Gerard had always loved him. Whenever Mikey struggled, he was there, and then, when Gerard had needed it most, Mikey had been there for him, too, to pick him up and put him back on his feet.

He really had acted as a protector, now that Gerard thought about it. He’d been there all along. 

Mikey wasn’t the one who was different: Gerard’s perception was the only thing that had changed.

Pete took the popcorn bowl from Gerard and pushed himself to his feet, padding out of the room. “Where’s your kitchen?” he asked, his voice carrying through the open door.

“Turn left,” said Gerard. “Just leave it on the counter.”

“Mmm. Ooh, you’ve got Frankenberry? Fuckin’ sweet -” There was a rustling noise, followed by a contented sigh. “Goddamn, that’s good.”

Gerard snorted. “Does that count as blasphemy?” 

“Nope,” Pete said as he came back in. He plopped down next to Gerard and extended the box of cereal. “I’m an angel, I can say whatever I want. What’s gonna happen?”

Gerard grinned and took a handful of cereal.

After that, the atmosphere in the room relaxed considerably. Pete was actually a pretty cool guy. He had a ton of stories to share, some of which were tales of his own escapades, others involving Mikey, his charge, or any of the angels Gerard had never met. After a while, they all seemed to be about his charge. 

“We’re like tragic lovers,” Pete said forlornly, shoving a handful of cereal into his mouth. “You’re not supposed to date your charge, it’s against the rules. ‘Cause, like, if you break up, then guarding them would get so much harder. You’d have to hide all the time or risk looking like a stalker.”

“Do the other angels know about you?” Gerard said curiously.

“Some do, some don’t. None of them _get_ it, though. They just tell me I’m making a mistake or whatever. That it won’t end well. But they’re wrong, y’know? He’s _Patrick_ ,” said Pete, as if that explained everything. “We’re supposed to be together.”

Gerard nodded. He didn’t know how Pete could be so certain, but arguing with him would serve no purpose. 

“I’m gonna miss him,” Pete said sadly. “You’re lucky you get to go with Mikey.”

Gerard’s eyes widened. He’d almost completely forgotten that the other angels would be forced to abandon their charges. “Oh, shit. That really sucks, I’m so sorry.”

Pete winced. “Yeah. I… yeah. He doesn’t know I’m leaving yet, I haven’t had the chance to explain. He probably won’t even believe me. Not until I’m gone.”

“Then you should go and say goodbye,” said Mikey.

“Jesus fuck!” Pete jumped, clutching the box of cereal to his chest. “Mikey! You scared the shit outta me, God.”

Mikey smirked and waved his hand. “You can go ahead, I know you want to. Gabe and the other archangels have it covered. I’m free now.”

“Sweet!” Pete exclaimed, then vanished into thin air. The cereal box fell onto the floor.

The second he left, Mikey was sitting down beside Gerard. “Sorry about him,” he said. “Did he say anything weird? He gets overbearing sometimes, but he’s a good guy. I wouldn’t have trusted him to look after you if he wasn’t.”

“It’s fine,” Gerard reassured him. “It wasn’t weird. It kinda made me think, actually. About you.” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s… hard,” he said finally. “To see you as the same person, now that I know all this. And I think I’ve been going about it the wrong way. It’s not that you’re exactly the same, because really, you aren’t. I can’t pretend you are. But it’s not that you’re completely different, either.” He looked into Mikey’s eyes. There was something otherworldly about them; a sadness that went beyond mortality. He didn’t know how he’d never noticed it before.

“You’re still my brother,” he said. “This other part of you, it’s… crazy, but I can deal with it. It’s not something I need to run away from, and I don’t have to pretend it’s not there. It’s not that you’re suddenly a stranger to me. It’s just that… I want to learn more. And I’m glad I’m getting the chance. Does that make sense?”

Mikey pulled Gerard into his arms.

“Yeah, Gee,” he said, his voice muffled by Gerard’s hair. “It makes sense.”

Gerard clung onto him and willed his eyes to stop stinging. It didn’t work. But Mikey just held him tighter, and if his breathing was a bit shaky as well, Gerard didn’t say anything.

They stayed that way for a long time.

***

The sun was just beginning to set. It crept ever closer to the horizon, the clouds around it shining pink and orange. The streets were cast in a soft orange light, the apartment buildings and complexes sending shadows down to the ground. It was a warm sort of darkness, almost comforting; not cold and unfeeling like the kind Gerard had become accustomed to in the Under. Soon, the sun would hide behind the earth, and the sky would fill with stars. Lately, he’d been so caught up in running back and forth, trying to make his last moments count, he’d sort of forgotten how beautiful his home could be. 

He was going to miss the sunsets.

“How long?” Gerard asked. They were sitting on the side of a hill. Down below was the city, lit by the sun’s dying glow. Cars crawled by like tiny ants. They, and the people inside them, were distant; irrelevant. He felt much closer to the clouds. 

“A few minutes,” said Mikey. He had one arm looped around Gerard’s shoulder. “Any last words?”

Gerard shook his head. “I can’t be poetic under pressure.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Mikey was quiet. “Guess we’ll have to settle for the sappy shit.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Gerard said. He gazed out over the city, letting the white noise of distant traffic wash over him. “What happened with the other angels? Did they get to say their goodbyes, after they were done fighting off the demons?”

Mikey shrugged. “Not sure. Gabe was still fighting when I left. I think he was trying to get everyone who wasn’t a guardian on board, so those who had charges wouldn’t be interrupted when they were saying goodbye. He only asked me to help because he knew you’re coming with me.”

“Well, obviously.”

Gerard focused on the the buildings far below, wondering if there were angels beneath each roof. How much of the world’s population would suddenly disappear with them? How many people had, like Mikey, led entire lives masquerading as human?

“This is weird,” he said. “Right?”

“What do you mean?” Mikey asked. 

“All of this. This whole week. We’re at the ending now, and it should feel like a huge deal, but it doesn’t. It just feels… nice.”

“Well, that’s probably because you’re not dying for the first time,” Mikey pointed out. “You know what’s coming.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But it’s still an ending, y’know? I’m never gonna see any of this again.” Gerard pointed to a tree off the side of the hill. “That tree right there? Never again. That building? Never again.”

“The guys with huge gauges who come into the cafe and ask if we have vegan coffee? Never again,” Mikey said dreamily. 

“You’re an idiot,” said Gerard, trying for a deadpan, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. Mikey grinned. 

“See, there y -”

He tensed. 

Gerard’s laughter died in his throat as Mikey leapt up, whipping around just in time to grab Bert’s arm before his knife met Mikey’s throat.

“Aw,” said Bert, disappointed. “I was hoping you wouldn’t see that coming.”

“You thought wrong,” Mikey said curtly. He threw Bert’s arm down, circling around so his back wasn’t to the hill. Gerard watched in stunned silence. “What do you want?”

Bert snorted. “What do you _think_ I want? I want your head. Well,” he paused, “I’m not picky. The wings would be nice. I’ll settle for anything that kills you.”

“Gerard, leave,” said Mikey.

“No!” Bert protested. “Let him stay, he can watch the show!”

“No offense, but you really shouldn’t waste energy worrying about him,” said Mikey. 

His wings burst into view, and the halo around his head blazed with a light so bright Gerard had to avert his eyes. The sudden surge of power sent a jolt up his spine. Bert just laughed, wild and drunk on the energy flowing through the air.

“I’ve always wanted to fight an archangel!” he said, his voice barely audible over the roaring in Gerard’s ears. Gerard wasn’t sure if it was wind or the rush of his own bloodstream. “You’re all the same, you know! All holier-than-thou, like having a stricter code makes you better.” He took a step toward Mikey, his eyes flashing with a manic light. “Those morals won’t save you when you’re in pieces. Maybe then you’ll see we’re all the same. You’re just on the wrong side.”

The first swing of his blade was almost cautious; too slow to be serious, with not enough power behind it. Gerard would have fallen for it if he hadn’t seen Bert fight so many times. Bert never exercised true caution. If he was going slow, it was only to test the waters, to see how far he could push the limits before Mikey snapped. To see what Mikey would do when he did. 

Gerard was a little curious himself.

As it turned out, Mikey had a more no-nonsense approach. He parried Bert’s strike easily, and Gerard almost fell over at the sight of the weapon that had appeared in his hand - it wasn’t a short blade like Frank’s, or longer and curved like the one Bert used, but a full-length fucking sword, polished to shine. The way he held it was almost biblical. He wielded it with certainty, as if it were an extension of his own body. It was no normal sword - but then again, Mikey was no normal swordsman.

“Ooh,” Bert said appreciatively. “I could almost respect that.” He ducked a blow, then spun around, straight into one of Mikey’s wings. It smacked into him and threw him back a good twenty feet. The moment his back hit the ground, he was up again and licking his lips. “Good power on those things. Gonna be a shame to cut ‘em off, hm?”

Mikey didn’t respond. He was busy blocking a flurry of strikes, then countering with his own. He slashed down from above, then came in from the side, almost grazing Bert’s torso, but not quite. Watching it, Gerard thought his eyes might bug out of his head. Seeing Mikey fight Frank had been one thing, but this was like watching a tornado and a hurricane collide. Mikey was lightning-fast, faster than anything Gerard had ever seen, and he’d seen a fucking lot, but Bert wasn’t any slower. For the first time Gerard could recall, he actually seemed to be putting effort into fighting. 

This match was neater than any Gerard had seen, too. He could remember the cuts and gouge marks that had pockmarked both Frank and Bert’s flesh when they were finished with each other, the blood that would flow freely before one of them admitted defeat. This was different. Neither Mikey nor Bert had a single cut on them.

Somehow, it was much more nerve-wracking to watch.

Gerard held his breath every time Bert came within striking distance. Mikey always got away, ducking just in time or spinning with an amount of grace that shouldn’t have been possible in a fight this dirty, especially not from him - not from Gerard’s clumsy little brother. A few days before, the contradiction would have terrified him.

Now, his only fear was for Mikey’s safety, and underneath it was a tiny glimmer of pride.

Mikey took his eyes off Bert for a fraction of a second to look at Gerard. “What are you doing?” he yelled. “Run!”

Gerard shook his head and scrambled to his feet. “No, I’m not leaving!” 

“You can’t help, okay? I’ll be fine. Just fucking go before -” Mikey cut himself off to jump away from Bert. Gerard’s eyes were too slow to track their movements, but he caught the back-and-forth of close-range combat before they slowed, Mikey’s arm wrapped around Bert’s neck in a firm headlock. He looked into Gerard’s eyes as he struggled to keep his grip.

“Go!” he shouted. 

Gerard froze. Mikey’s face was openly pleading. Gerard pictured it for a moment. If he ran, Mikey would have the security of knowing he was safe. They could meet up in the Above when the treaty went into effect. But what if something went wrong? What if Mikey -

Gerard’s moment of deliberation was interrupted by a sudden flurry of movement. Mikey stumbled back, clutching his nose. Gerard let out a startled noise. He braced himself, fully prepared to see Mikey take another blow in his moment of weakness, but none came. His attacker straightened up and stepped away.

“Back the fuck off,” Frank spat.

Gerard’s heart plummeted to his feet. 

Mikey slammed into Frank before he had the chance to blink. “Fuck you,” he snarled. He drew back, then punched as hard as he could, his fist meeting Frank’s jaw with a _crack_ that made Gerard wince. Frank’s head snapped back, and he almost fell, taking a few steps back to steady himself. 

“Wait,” he said, gritting his teeth through the pain. “Don’t -”

“I could kill you,” said Mikey. “I _will_.”

Frank swallowed hard. “Can’t kill me twice.”

“Yeah?” said Mikey, angling the tip of his sword to Frank’s chest. “Wanna test that theory?”

“Mikey -”

“I don’t need to kill you again, Frank,” Mikey said calmly. “There are worse things. As long as you’ll never get your filthy hands on him again, I’m satisfied.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed. Gerard wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. He hated the part of him that still knew Frank’s every move and mannerism, but it was there, and because of it, he knew what was going to happen in an instant. 

Mikey’s sword twitched; Frank lunged, knife in hand - 

And then something smacked Gerard in the back of the head, and everything went black.

***

Gerard’s head fucking _hurt_. There was a dull ache in the back of his skull that throbbed every other second, like someone was hitting him repeatedly with a hammer. The pain was a prickle of heat against the cold ground beneath him. His entire body felt stiff from lying on it. It was supremely uncomfortable. 

The realization hit him like a train.

Gerard jumped to his feet, ignoring the stabbing pains in his limbs, and looked wildly back and forth. This wasn’t the Above. This was the Middle; the was the exact same place he’d been before. The memories hit him all at once, Mikey and Bert and _Frank_ , and there he was, standing unmoved, standing alone. They were gone. They’d left him behind. _Mikey_ had left him behind.

But no, there was no way. They couldn’t be gone. 

Gerard took a step forward, searching the area despite the lack of any obvious clues. The space Mikey, Bert, and Frank had formerly occupied was devastatingly vacant. Even the grass their feet had crushed down had lifted up. There was no sign they had ever been there, aside from Gerard’s own memory. 

He sank down to his knees, reaching out to touch the empty air. It felt so much hollower than it should have. He slowly let his hand fall.

“Fuck,” he whispered. The background noises of the city were beginning to fill the space around him, rushing to compensate for the sudden silence. A car alarm blared in the distance. No matter how long he stayed frozen, the world was determined to keep on turning. As if Mikey had never even been there.

God damn it.

They were gone. Here was no talking around it. Gerard was alone; but it couldn’t have been intentional. Mikey would never leave him behind. Something must have happened. Maybe Bert had…

Gerard’s stomach lurched. 

He pushed the thought away as hard as he possibly could. Mikey was fine. Something else had gone wrong. Maybe he had to be touching Mikey in order to travel to the Above, or something, and the contract had taken effect at just the wrong moment. That would be just his luck.

“ _Fuck_!” Gerard shouted. His voice echoed down the street. He pushed himself to his feet, both hands clenched into fists. There was a restless energy building inside him; rage or despair, he didn’t know. Maybe a combination of the two. Whatever it was, it was crashing over him in waves, each one stronger than the last. If he didn’t find a way to let it out, it would knock him off his feet and sweep him away. 

He spent another minute staring down at the ground, searching for a drop of blood, a mark, anything to say Mikey’s presence hadn’t been a figment of his imagination. He knew it hadn’t been, but some physical proof would be nice.

Mikey not _fucking disappearing_ would be nice. 

“Fuck this,” Gerard said, once more for good measure.

The stars shone down at him from on high, teasing him with the twinkling lights he had thought he would never see again.

***

Gerard didn’t bother looking around the apartment. If he focused too long on the empty spaces, or, even worse, the subtle reminders of Mikey’s presence, he would fall to pieces, and he knew it. He didn’t look at the grey woolen coat thrown across the couch. He didn’t look at Mikey’s bedroom door. What he did look at was the kitchen cabinet, as he fell into an all-too-familiar path without even realizing it. 

He swung the cabinet door open and reached instinctively for the hardest liquor he could find.

He twisted the cap open and raised the bottle to his lips, halfway down the road to numbness before he even tasted the first hint of alcohol, when he stopped. 

All those fucking times Mikey had asked him if he was okay. He’d always lied and said yes. Now, all he wanted was for Mikey to ask him that, to give him the chance to answer with an honest _no_. He just wanted Mikey to _be_ there, instead of locked away in another dimension with no way of contacting Gerard. 

Why was his luck so neverendingly shitty?

The next thing Gerard knew, he was sitting on the floor, clutching the bottle and crying harder than he had in weeks. Months. Years? Fuck it, who knew, with all the weird time bullshit in the realms. Gerard could barely breathe. His entire body shook with the force of his sobs, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t catch his breath. The tears fell thick and fast, running in hot streams down his cheeks. He knew he made for a pathetic picture, but what did that matter? It wasn’t like anyone was there to see him. It was hitting him all at once, and he had no idea how to make it stop.

Mikey was gone forever, or at least for the rest of Gerard’s life. Who knew how long that would be. And Frank… Fuck, Frank was an entirely different category of hurt. He’d pretended to be Gerard’s friend - no, Gerard had spent too much time lying to himself; Frank had been more than a friend, _so_ much fucking more. He’d been Gerard’s lifeline. He was a comforting presence in the constant terror of the Under; saving him once, twice, and over again, lulling him into the sweetest sense of security before ripping it all away. But in the end it hadn’t mattered, because Gerard was just another stupid human to him, just a pure soul to be pawned off for kicks. He’d put it off as long as he could, but reality was catching up with him, and this time, there was nowhere to run. He had to face the betrayal head-on.

And that wasn’t even taking into account the fact that Frank had tried to _kill Mikey_.

That, above anything else, made Gerard want to grab Frank by his stupid hair and punch him in the face. Frank didn’t have the right to come _near_ them. The sheer audacity he must have had, to team up with Bert and come after the most important person in Gerard’s life; it was unbelievable. He really was determined to make Gerard hurt in every possible way.

Gerard didn’t think he’d ever felt this miserable in his life. He’d certainly never been this tempted to drink, and that was saying something. He couldn’t see a way out of this that didn’t involve drinking himself unconscious and forgetting the world for a while. That was how he worked. If he couldn’t even cope with the problems brought on by a regular fucking life, how was he supposed to deal with _this_? 

Gerard couldn’t count the number of times Mikey had tried to help him. He couldn’t count the number of times he hadn’t listened. 

Maybe it was time to start.

Gerard drew his sleeve across his face, wiping his eyes as best he could. It took a few tries before his eyes were completely dry. They still burned, and a second round of tears threatened to spill over, but he managed to take a deep breath without coughing it back out, and that was something. He grabbed onto the kitchen counter and pulled himself up. Before he slid the bottle back onto the shelf, he twisted the cap back on tight, tight enough that opening it again would be a struggle. 

He couldn’t stop the flood of shame that rose in him as he closed the cabinet door. Here he was, making a good decision for once in his life, and all it had taken was the permanent loss of his brother. His thoughts were a slow burn of _could’ve, should’ve_ , every passing moment reminding him of another way he could’ve been better.

Gerard shuffled back toward his room. He collapsed into his bed, not bothering to close the door or pull up the covers, and curled into a tight ball. His eyes were still watery, but they were heavy more than anything. His eyelids drifted slowly shut, and his thoughts died down into a languid stream of consciousness before slipping into the delirium of sleep.

The last thing he registered before the darkness overcame him was a faint sense of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to think anymore.

***

A bell tinkled somewhere above Gerard’s head as the door swung shut behind him. With his first step onto the polished wood floor, he was already having second thoughts. He could just leave now. As long as he didn’t move past the doorway, he could pretend he hadn’t been there at all. 

But the scent of coffee wafting through the air was simply too good to resist.

Gerard wove his way through the round little tables of the cafe. Behind the counter, a man was fussing with one of the coffee machines, his back turned to Gerard. Gerard didn’t need to see his face to recognize him. 

“Spencer!” he called. 

The man let out a startled noise, knocking a carton of creamer over and just managing to catch it before it hit the ground. He froze for a moment, as if confirming that he had indeed managed to catch it, then set it carefully back down and turned to face Gerard. “Look what you almost made me do,” he said accusingly. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Seems like it worked out okay,” said Gerard. 

Spencer just shook his head, grinning as he returned his attention to the coffee maker. “Give me just a minute. I’ve actually been hoping you’d stop by, I’ve just gotta fix this stupid thing.”

Gerard sat down at one of the miniature tables, crossing his legs tightly and doing his best to suppress the nervous energy thrumming within him. He didn’t know why he was so jittery. It probably had something to do with coming back to Mikey’s workplace. It had been weeks since he’d last visited, and it felt somehow wrong to come alone. Mikey should have been with him.

And, of course, that was precisely the reason Gerard had come.

After a few minutes of fussing with the machine and muttering to himself, Spencer gave up. He maneuvered his way around the counter and came to sit by Gerard. “So, what’s up?” he asked. “Where’s Mikey? He hasn’t come in for ages. We thought he’d quit, but he didn’t call or anything. Is he okay?” 

Gerard took a deep breath. Now came the hard part. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just taking some time away from everything.”

“That doesn’t sound okay to me,” said Spencer, concerned. “Is he gonna be back?”

Gerard shook his head. “Probably not. He’s okay, though, really.” He hoped it was true. 

“If you’re sure,” said Spencer, frowning slightly. He looked away, his gaze landing on a table covered with crumbs as he exhaled. “Wow. Man, that really sucks... Alicia’s gone, too, not sure why. We’ll have to put out applications.”

Gerard blinked. “Alicia left too?”

Spencer nodded. “Just disappeared out of nowhere. It was around the same time Mikey left, actually. Maybe there’s something going around.” He cracked a grin. “I was starting to think they’d eloped or something.”

Gerard smiled, but inside his mind was a rapid swirl of thought. Mikey and Alicia had vanished at the same time? It couldn’t be a coincidence. The more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Maybe Mikey hadn’t had a crush on her; he’d just been keeping in contact with another angel.

Or, more likely, it was both. Gerard seriously doubted that there hadn’t been a spark between them.

“So,” Spencer prompted. “Tell him I say hi, would you? He should come by sometime; we can’t have him forgetting his humble roots.”

Gerard winced internally. There was no easily explicable way to tell Mikey’s coworkers that they wouldn’t ever see him again. Gerard would have to make up some sort of story about him moving away. It would undoubtedly hurt Spencer and the others when Mikey didn’t come to say goodbye, but there was no way around it. It wasn’t like Gerard could tell them the truth.

“I will,” he said instead. 

“Sweet,” said Spencer, looking pleased. He turned back to look at Gerard. “But, hey - that wasn’t the only reason I wanted to talk to you. We’re hosting a poetry slam on the fourteenth, you wanna make a poster for it?”

Gerard’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh! Yeah, uh, that sounds cool.” He ran through his mental calendar as quickly as he could. Something about the Under had thrown his sense of time off to no end; he could barely keep track of the days anymore. “The fourteenth… That’s, um. How long is that from now?”

Spencer smiled, pushing out his chair so he could stand up. “About a week. It’s okay if that’s too short-notice; I know you can’t rush artistic genius.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to,” said Gerard, surprising himself. He hadn’t touched his sketchbook since… well, he hadn’t touched it in a long time, he’d put it that way. He’d been drifting through the days without putting too much thought into them. There wasn’t much room in his head for creative spirit, not with the depressive fog that was currently clouding it. But now that the opportunity arose, he found himself suddenly itching to get his hands on a blank page, to fill it up with all the thoughts that never left him alone. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

“I knew you would,” Spencer said fondly. “Always coming through for us.” He stepped behind the counter and disappeared into the back before returning with a small slip of paper. “Now, obviously, this won’t do as a flyer,” he said, passing it over to Gerard. “So I’m trusting you to come up with something that we can actually use. Make it awesome. If the people won’t come for poetry, they’ll come for your designs.”

Gerard felt his cheeks go pink. “Thanks,” he said. He took the paper, skimming over the dates and descriptions that had been hastily written down. Yeah, he could probably turn that into a cool poster. He was already thinking about color schemes when Spencer spoke up again.

“And if you need a job or anything, we’re hiring as of right now,” he said. “We could use a full-time poster maker. And there’s an employee discount.”

Gerard’s eyes flicked automatically to the espresso machine.

Spencer wiggled his eyebrows. “See? You should think about it. I don’t know how Mikey’d feel about you stepping into his place, but if he gets pissy about it, just say you’re stepping into Alicia’s.”

Gerard half-smiled. “I don’t think he’ll mind.” If anything, Mikey would encourage him. He could barely remember the last time he had a steady income, and now that he didn’t have a roommate, he really needed the extra cash. And who knew? Maybe he’d even enjoy it.

“Cool! I don’t have, like, actual application forms, but I can get some from Brian,” Spencer said earnestly. “I can give you one when you drop off the poster?”

“That sounds great,” said Gerard, and to his relief, it wasn’t a lie at all.

On his walk home, he couldn’t help but look up into the clouds, squinting against the sun that hid behind them. He knew no one was literally looking down at him from the sky, but there were too many ideas instilled in him from a Catholic childhood and common ideology to separate the concept of heaven from the puffy white clouds above. 

He knew there was a chance no one was watching him, but it was nice to imagine that they might be. That he was making someone proud.

***

Gerard stared at the blank white page before him. He pictured a mic stand, twisting it around to different angles, imagining fonts and texture and all the tiny details he could add. There were so many possibilities connected to just one concept, he didn’t even know where to begin.

That, and he was still trying to deny the fact that he was fucking terrified.

He swallowed hard. Things had been going so well lately. He still woke up screaming from the dreams that ripped through his skull at night, and he spent half his time moping, but he spent the other half feeling surprisingly okay. This wasn’t a total dissociative episode like he was used to. It was just a slump. In a fucked-up sort of way, that was even scarier. He knew benders like the back of his hand; he understood them. If all else failed, he could always retreat into the darkest parts of himself, drink, and pretend not to exist.

But this? This was much harder. He had to get up every morning and move through life at a pace that resembled normal, even if he was only pretending to know what he was doing. The pencil in his hand was the next step in that process. If he could just touch it to the paper, he’d be golden. But he couldn’t do it.

It had been so long since he’d properly created something. What if he’d forgotten how?

Things had been going so well; he couldn’t fuck it up now. If he’d lost his artistic ability, one of the few things he was truly passionate about, he was screwed. His entire future was on the line.

Well, that was a bit dramatic. But this did feel important. It was more than just a poster for some event; it was a revival. A rebirth. It was Gerard learning how to be a person again, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He wasn’t sure if it was possible.

He lowered the tip of his pencil to the paper and began to draw, slowly sketching out the curve of a microphone.

***

Gerard let his bag slump onto the grassy hillside and took a seat beside it. The area looked different in the midday sun; more normal. Without the dusk to color it in shades of orange and red, it lost a bit of its magic. Not that he minded. Coming back had been enough of a struggle on its own; he didn’t want the scene to be set exactly how it had when he and Mikey had last sat together.

He’d avoided it as long as he could, but he’d always known he would end up back in this spot.

There was no way around it. He was as close to happy as he could be, but he could never forget. Of course he couldn’t. Little things would remind him of Mikey - or, on worse days, Frank - and he would have to take a moment to just sit and breathe. That was okay, he thought. It was healthy. 

But thinking wouldn’t always be enough. He needed a physical connection to the images dancing through his mind.

Gerard hadn’t yet dared to look at the exact spot he’d last seen Mikey. Instead, he cast his gaze out over the city, drinking in the sight before he dug out his sketchbook. The pages were noticeably fuller than they had been a week ago. Once he’d made the first stroke of his pen, it was like a dam burst within him, letting out years of inspiration he’d been too drunk (or too dead) to tap into. He flipped past sketches of vampires, werewolves, and, of course, demons, before he finally landed on an empty space. 

He tapped his pencil against the page, studying the shape of the skyline before he began to draw it out. 

Two minutes it, and he could tell it wasn’t working. The perspective was off by a fraction; not enough to be apparent at first glance, but anyone who looked at it for more than a few seconds would surely notice. Gerard definitely did. He wasn’t sure how to fix it, though. He erased and re-drew the outline of a church in the distance. Maybe if he just angled the line a bit more to the left?

Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. 

The page was covered in eraser marks. He flipped to the next one, tilting his head as he looked out over the rooftops. Maybe there was a different area he could focus on. He wanted to draw this scene; he needed to. His sketchbook was his outlet, and he couldn’t help but feel that if he managed to transfer his experiences to paper, they might take up less space in his head. All he had to do was figure out how.

He decided on a practice run before attempting to draw the entire scene. He glanced up at one of the closer buildings, tracing the pattern of rectangular windows that filled its side. As the shapes came easily, he began to relax. This wasn’t so bad. He filled in the space where the building fell into the shadow of another, shading with light strokes of his pencil. When the image was suitably mapped out, he swapped the pencil for a pen, darkening each line with the utmost care.

His hand slipped, and the line wavered. “Fuck,” he said out loud. He scribbled out the half-finished building, ignoring the hot burst of frustration the sprung up within him. It was like he was at war with his own fingers. They refused to listen to his direction. Each line was forced, and it took him longer than it should have to figure out where to go next. It wasn’t natural. The inspiration just wasn’t there. Art wasn’t supposed to be easy, but it wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight. Gerard looked back up from his sketchbook, taking a deep breath, and his eyes landed on the trees at the bottom of the hill.

He followed them upwards, along the curve of the earth, until he found himself turning his head and finally focusing on the space behind him. 

Gerard sighed. There was the problem.

He turned himself around, dragging his things with him, and turned to a fresh page.

He built the scene piece by piece. The planes of the hillside, the trees jutting up at the corners; the patches of brush that filled the space between them. They formed a circle of greenery around a clear space in the middle. Gerard imagined an empty stage, spotlights trained on a point occupied only by empty air. The space was meant to be filled, but he left it blank. Around it, the picture slowly came into shape, lines of ink winding around leaves and branches, but the center was plain white. It felt wrong; incomplete. It was supposed to. 

After what felt like minutes, but could have been hours, Gerard set his marker down. He wasn’t even sure when he’d started coloring. The page in front of him was covered in green, with shades of brown and yellow overlapping, and dark black shadows that hinted at something sinister, but gave nothing away. 

It felt like an unanswered question. Like a cliffhanger. It was a mystery not meant to be solved, a story without an ending. It was more abstract than his usual drawings, but at the same time, much more literal.

Gerard closed his sketchbook and shoved it back into his bag. He stretched out his limbs, stiff and slightly numb from sitting down, then pushed himself up to his feet. He was done here.

He walked straight through the clearing, lingering only a moment in the empty space he had transferred to his page.

He was leaving it behind now; unfinished, yet, in its own way, complete.

***

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” Spencer asked worriedly. “I mean, you don’t even have a coat. You’re gonna freeze to death, or at least get sick, and then Brian’s gonna give me double shifts and yell at both of us.”

Gerard rolled his eyes, pulling the door shut behind them. Inside, Ryan gave a little wave from the counter. His shift had only just begun, and Gerard already spied a book sitting open next to the cash register. His nose would undoubtedly be buried in it the second they turned their backs. Gerard waved goodbye before turning to Spencer. “Nah, I’m good. My apartment’s not far from here,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they started off down the sidewalk. 

“Double shifts, Gerard,” Spencer persisted. “Do you realize what’s at stake here?”

Gerard snorted. “You’ll have a few less hours to spend laying on the couch? Oh, the horror.”

“You’re one to talk!” Spencer waved his keys in Gerard’s face. “Have fun getting hypothermia, Mr. High And Mighty. I’m gonna go enjoy a heated car. Make sure to tell Brian I warned you when you get sick.” He hopped over the curb, waving over his shoulder and calling “See ya!” as he crossed the street. Gerard smiled at his retreating back. Spencer was a good guy. After a few months working together, Gerard would even call him a friend.

Gerard shivered against the cold. Maybe he should’ve accepted that ride offer. But his apartment really wasn’t too far, and Spencer had mentioned wanting to meet with his teacher before his evening class. Gerard could take a little extra walking if it meant he wasn’t intruding on Spencer’s plans.

A drop of something cold landed on his nose.

Gerard looked up into the clouds, a feeling of foreboding sinking over him. They were thick enough to block out the sun, and if he squinted, he could just make out the white flakes beginning to drift down. Shit. He quickened his pace, praying the snowfall wouldn’t do the same. He only had to make it a few more blocks before he was safe. 

No one else was out on the streets. They had all been smart enough to stay tucked away in the warmth of their homes, sheltered from the oncoming storm. Gerard walked past a few parked cars, but no other living souls made their presence known. It was just him and the clouds of his breath. 

He tugged at the strings of his hoodie to pull it tighter around his neck. It didn’t do much good to keep out the chill, but it was something. At least it kept him covered enough that no one would notice the scar; the thick, ragged stripe of white against his throat, marking a wound long since healed. At this point, Gerard didn’t think it would ever fade. It was a constant reminder of everything he’d been through. Most of the time, he tried to keep it covered to avoid awkward questions, but it was always there. 

He didn’t bother looking both ways before he stepped off the curb and into the street. The second his foot hit the pavement, it slipped out from underneath him, very nearly causing him to faceplant into a sheet of ice. It took a moment of flailing before he was able to catch himself. Fucking ice. He glanced furtively around, suddenly very grateful that the streets were empty. 

He took a slow step forward, making sure he had firm footing before making his way across the street. Winter had never been his favorite season; mostly because it always seemed to be out to get him. He could never get through those few cold months without slipping, sliding, and tripping his way into countless snowdrifts. His only consolation was that Mikey was no better. They suffered through it together.

Or, they used to.

If Mikey was watching Gerard right now, he’d be laughing his ass off. Gerard shot a suspicious look at the sky. “Shut your mouth,” he said, just in case. 

When he looked back down, he caught a glimpse of flashing headlights just before they slammed into him.

Gerard felt his bones break on impact. He felt it all; the metal crushing into him, a blinding flash of pain that seared across his senses, the smash of his head against the road as he fell. Everything went blurry, and the edges of his vision went dark. He reached for the darkness without thinking. Anything to make the pain stop. Somewhere in the distance, tires screeched, and there was a resounding crash, but it was no louder than the pounding of his own heart. With each beat, he could feel the blood leaving his body. It wouldn’t be long now. He closed his eyes, relaxing into the agony and waiting for it to cease. The blackness wavered and threatened to swallow him.

Then he was slammed back into himself, gasping for breath.

He was alive.

He was flat on his back, and soaked with blood, but somehow, he had survived. He _shouldn’t_ have survived. A collision like that should’ve killed him instantly.

Gerard touched a hand to his forehead, intending to wipe away some of the blood, but his fingers came back dry. The wet feeling had vanished.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. He combed his fingers through his hair and sat up slowly. The previous pain was gone; disappeared without a trace. He ran a hand down his limbs, but nothing felt out of order. Not only had he survived, but he was uninjured.

What the _fuck_?

Gerard looked up and instantly wished he hadn’t. Not far off were the remains of what must have been a car, but looked more like a crushed soda can. It had veered off the road and smashed into a parked car. Surrounding the wreck was a halo of shattered glass, and smoke poured from the destroyed hull.

There was no way anyone inside could have survived. Gerard prayed that the driver hadn’t had passengers. 

Gerard slowly rolled up to his feet. His own blood still covered the ground around him, but his body was perfectly clean. He didn’t even know where to start asking questions. Instead, he took a tentative step toward the wrecked car. 

A man popped around from the other side, nearly giving him a heart attack.

“Holy shit!” Gerard yelped. “Where did -”

“Oh my God!” The man clapped a hand over his mouth, looking horrified. His glasses were askew, and he was even bloodier than Gerard had been. “Oh my God, are you okay? I just hit you! I’m so sorry, there was a patch of black ice and I just couldn’t stop - oh, God.” He hurried forward, looking Gerard up and down, perplexed. “Are… you okay? You seem okay.”

“I’m fine,” Gerard assured him. He didn’t know if that was necessarily true, but hey, he was alive. This guy, though… He frowned. “What about you? You kind of look like you need an ambulance.”

“I’m okay. I mean, I th-think I am.” The man adjusted his glasses. “C-could you maybe take a look at something for me?” he asked. “Just tell me I’m not crazy.” He gave a weak smile, but it was strained, with nerves hiding behind it. He turned and approached the driver’s side of the car, Gerard following cautiously.

The man pointed inside, his hand trembling.

“That’s me,” he said. 

Gerard froze. The cracked windshield was smeared with red. He didn’t want to look any closer, but if he did, he thought he could see a figure, bent and broken amid the wreckage.

“That’s _me_ ,” the man repeated, an edge of panic creeping into his voice. “But I’m _here_ , and I -”

“Oh, shit,” Gerard murmured. 

So he was dead, then. They both were. 

Gerard frowned. This was definitely not how things were supposed to go. It was funny; he should have been panicking, but now that he had died twice, it was difficult to feel anything more than a stab of annoyance and confusion. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. As far as he knew, people didn’t stay in the Middle when they died, and this guy was obviously dead. He should’ve been in a different realm by now. _Gerard_ should’ve been in a different realm by now.

“What did you say your name was?” Gerard asked. 

The man blinked. “I-I didn’t. But, um, it’s Patrick.”

“Patrick. Cool. I’m Gerard.” Gerard paused. “Yeah, there’s no way to put this lightly, so let me just say it: you’re dead. And if you’re dead, then I am, too.” He glanced up at the sky. “I thought I’d get another year at least, but apparently not. Guess I’m just not meant to live long.”

“I - wait, what?” Patrick said, dumbfounded. “What are you talking about?”

“That,” said Gerard, pointing to the car. “You said it yourself, man, that’s you. You’re dead.” Patrick shuddered and averted his eyes. Gerard couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Death was a confusing thing; it was no wonder he didn’t believe it.

“Look,” said Gerard, more gently this time. “You’re gonna be okay. You’re still talking to me, right? I dunno if you’re religious or anything, but that’s gotta be enough proof to make you believe in some kind of afterlife.”

“But I… I can’t be _dead_ ,” said Patrick, sounding slightly desperate. “I’m just having an out-of-body experience or something, right? I’ll be okay?”

Gerard shook his head. 

Patrick glanced at the car and visibly deflated. 

“How do you know all this?” he asked. 

Gerard smiled. “That’s a long fuckin’ story. But trust me, I know what I’m talking about. The two of us, we’re screwed.”

“I don’t feel dead,” said Patrick.

Gerard shrugged. “No one ever does. That doesn’t mean you’re not.”

“But shouldn’t I be in heaven or something?” Patrick tried. “Dead people don’t just walk the earth, do they? I can’t be dead. I’d know it if I were.” He turned away from Gerard, and it was like he forget anyone else was there. “This is just a dream,” he muttered to himself. “I’m gonna wake up soon.”

Watching him try to reason with himself got more pitiful with every passing minute. Gerard could tell he was losing faith. If he could just accept his situation, they might be able to start talking about what came next. 

“Patrick,” Gerard said cautiously. “I know this is, like, a hard moment for you, but I’m gonna need to butt in real quick. Your situation is a little more complicated than most. Do you… I mean, did anything weird happen before you died?”

“You mean besides hitting you and flying through my own windshield?” Patrick said with a feeble attempt at a laugh. “No. Nothing.”

Gerard closed his eyes. He found himself wishing he had asked Mikey more about the process of death. There was no way for him to know for sure, but his gut was telling him this wasn’t normal. He should have been in the Above, and Patrick… Well, he didn’t know where Patrick was meant to be, but it sure as fuck wasn’t here. Dead humans didn’t just hang around the Middle. They moved on.

“So,” Gerard said out loud. “What makes you think you’d get into heaven?”

Patrick blinked, looking suddenly worried. “I… I don’t know. I’ve never done anything really bad, I don’t think. Is that enough?”

Gerard cursed himself. There was another point he should’ve asked Mikey. What exactly _did_ a person have to do in order to get sent to the Under? Patrick didn’t look like the type for murder or any obvious crime, but he was only human; he must’ve had a few sins under his belt. The only question was, were they bad enough to damn him?

Gerard sighed. He was close to admitting how clueless he truly was, but Patrick’s nervousness was tangible, and he was looking to Gerard for answers. Gerard had to look as if he had some idea what was going on. 

“Okay,” he said, wracking his brains for anything they could to do move forward. “I guess the first step is to figure out for sure where you’re meant to be, and then we get you there.” It was simple, except for the part where it wasn’t.

Patrick nodded. “How do we do that?”

Gerard winced. That was where things got complicated. “I don’t actually know,” he admitted. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

Patrick frowned. He looked down at the ground, concentration overtaking his features. That alone told Gerard all he needed to know. If he needed to think about it, he probably wasn’t destined for the Under. 

Right?

“One time I got in a fight with my best friend,” Patrick said finally. “It was something stupid, but I punched him in the face and I said some really nasty things. I told him I didn’t mean it, after, when I apologized… but that wasn’t entirely true. There was a part of me that meant all of it.”

Gerard raised an eyebrow. “That’s seriously the worst thing you can think of? Damn, you led a way better life than me.” If Gerard was meant for the Above, there was no way Patrick wasn’t. Gerard just couldn’t see a guy with glasses and a cardigan heading for the flaming pit. 

And it was more than just his appearance. Patrick had this inexplicable aura about him. After talking to him for less than half an hour, Gerard felt certain that he was blessed. He had to be. There was something in the air around him, a feeling of purity. It could have been his imagination, but Gerard really, really didn’t think so. 

He took a step closer to Patrick. His aura wasn’t physically tangible, but Gerard could feel it like a faint buzz in the back of his mind, a certainty so strong he wasn’t sure where it came from. It felt familiar, though he wasn’t sure why. It was just there. He didn’t know how it had escaped his notice. Now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t ignore it. 

“Gerard?” Patrick asked. “What are you doing?”

Gerard blinked. He’d been so distracted by his own thoughts, he hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Patrick. As if in a dream, he reached out his hand to touch.

His hand sunk straight through Patrick’s chest. 

Gerard startled. His hand was sitting in the spot Patrick’s heart should have occupied, but Patrick’s body had faded to a blurry outline. Instead, the clearest thing he could see was the ball of white light sitting in his palm.

“Woah,” he breathed. 

He drew his hand away, and it was like being snapped back to reality. All of a sudden, he could hear Patrick’s frantic breathing, and see the way his eyes were bugging out of his head. 

“Woah, hey!” Gerard said quickly, holding up his hands. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to freak you out. I didn’t even know I could do that. Sorry.”

Patrick’s mouth hung open. “What _was_ that?” he spluttered. “You just... I mean, you - _what_?”

Gerard heartily agreed with that sentiment. 

“I think I just touched your soul,” he said. He looked at his own hand, perplexed. When had he gotten _that_ ability? “So, the good news is, you’re definitely blessed.”

“You touched my soul,” Patrick said faintly. 

Gerard nodded, his brow furrowing. “Mm-hmm. I’ve never been able to do that before, though. Don’t ask me why I can do it now, I’ve got no fucking idea. But something’s definitely going on here.” One move, and he’d managed to raise so many more questions than answers. 

He clung onto the one thing that remained unchanged: their destination.

“I guess,” he said slowly, “We should try and get you to the Above.”

“The Above?” Patrick questioned. 

“Heaven,” Gerard said automatically. “Sorry. I’m kind of…” He brushed his hair out of his eyes, gesturing vaguely as he searched for the right words. “Informed? This isn’t the first time I’ve died, I know how it works.” He couldn’t help but smile at the dumbstruck look on Patrick’s face. “There’s a lot I’m gonna need to explain.”

“Apparently so,” Patrick said weakly.

Gerard eyed the still-smoking wreck of Patrick’s car. “There are some things I don’t know, though. I’m not sure if we’ll be, like, invisible to other people if they walk by. And I don’t really want to hang around and find out.” He could imagine Patrick wouldn’t want to stand by his own corpse for much longer, either. As expected, Patrick nodded quickly.

“All right, time to move, then. You wanna head to my place?” Gerard asked, as if that had been the plan all along. He still had no idea what he was doing. He let Patrick walk ahead of him, staring at his back and imagining the white-hot orb of pure energy that sat nestled in his ribcage. 

Hopefully, the answers would come to him with as much ease as his strange new abilities.

***

“I just don’t understand how you could’ve lived your whole life never realizing your brother was an _angel_ ,” said Patrick. He paused in the doorway, lingering as Gerard headed into the apartment. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“You’re basically a ghost, dude. It’s not like your feet are gonna leave marks,” said Gerard.

“I’m gonna take ‘em off anyway,” Patrick said to himself, slipping his sneakers off and leaving them beside the door. 

Gerard continued with his story as Patrick did so. “That’s how it works. Guardians aren’t supposed to let their charges know about their true nature.” He flopped onto the couch in what passed for his living room, silently thanking Mikey for buying it all those years ago. “I mean, trust me, if there was any way I could’ve noticed, I would’ve.”

“Where is he now?” Patrick asked, taking a seat next to Gerard and tucking his legs up. “Do you think he can help me?” He looked so hopeful; Gerard hated to crush his dreams.

“He’s gone,” said Gerard. “There was a bunch of bullshit with demons. They made a peace agreement, but part of it was that no demon or angel could set foot in the Middle again. So, no more Mikey. We’re on our own.” He’d given Patrick the barest version of the story he could. No need to drag up the gory details.

“Oh,” said Patrick, looking disappointed. “Are you sure there isn’t a way we can talk to him?”

Gerard shook his head. “We’re completely cut off. All I know for sure is that you’re supposed to be in the Above, but you’re not, so something’s up.” He bit his lip. “And I can apparently touch souls now,” he added as an afterthought. 

“Maybe there’s something keeping me from moving on,” Patrick suggested. “Unfinished business, or whatever. Like a ghost.”

Gerard shook his head. “I don’t think ghosts are real.”

Patrick frowned. “Just because you never discussed it doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

Gerard could see the logic, but something in him disagreed. This problem wasn’t as simple as a haunting. He could feel it in the same way he’d felt Patrick’s purity. He opened his mouth to offer a rebuttal when Patrick cut him off.

“That would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Patrick asked, his excitement building. “I mean, the whole mystery is that something’s happening that shouldn’t be. There weren’t ghosts before, but who’s to say there aren’t now?”

Gerard closed his mouth.

That made a surprising amount of sense.

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “That’s a fair point. Unfinished business, huh? You got any that you think might be holding you back?”

Patrick’s smile dimmed a bit before he responded. “I don’t think so… But I’d have to put some thought into it. I mean, it might be anything. An unfinished song, or an unresolved conflict…”

Gerard nodded. There was something that still felt off about Patrick’s ghost theory, but hey, it was better than nothing. Maybe they could gain some useful information from it.

“If you were a ghost, people wouldn’t be able to see you,” he said. 

“We haven’t run into anyone yet,” Patrick pointed out. “For all we know, we might both be invisible. You’re as dead as I am. More so, if the stuff you told me was true.”

Gerard blinked. Oh. Right. It was so easy to forget the fact that he was dead. 

“One clue always leads to another,” said Patrick. “If we just find out _what_ ’s going on here, I bet we can find out why. What else could we test?” he asked. “Maybe we can walk through walls? Or move things with our minds?” He sounded as if he were having trouble believing it himself, but was just searching for something to say. 

“You’ve been watching too much Ghostbusters,” said Gerard, but Patrick had already gotten up and promptly stuck his arm through the wall. 

The two of them wore mirrored expressions of pure shock.

Patrick yanked his arm out of the wall, staring at it. “That was seriously freaky,” said Gerard, and Patrick nodded vehemently. When he didn’t take his eyes off his own arm for another minute, Gerard cleared his throat. 

“So. Ghosts.”

“Yeah,” said Patrick, dazed.

“What did you say was next on the checklist?” Gerard asked. “Telekinesis? Like, poltergeist type stuff?”

Patrick shook his head helplessly. “Don’t ask me, I was just brainstorming.”

“And yet, you’re the one coming up with all the bright ideas,” said Gerard. He gave himself a mental poke. Think, damn it. He was the one with all the insider knowledge on how death worked. Shouldn’t he be finding a way out of this by now?

But now that Patrick had planted the idea in his head, all he could think of was fucking Ghostbusters. Typical.

Although…

“Hey,” Gerard said suddenly. “Do you want to go and freak out some baristas?”

***

“This is so weird,” said Patrick. Gerard couldn’t help but agree. They were standing directly in front of the counter, watching as Spencer whipped up a latte for a girl in leggings and an infinity scarf, but even as his gaze passed right over them, he took no notice. He just smiled, said “Have a nice day!” and returned to his work. Definitely eerie.

Now that they were actually there, Gerard was feeling even less confident than he had before. This wouldn’t help them. What they needed to be doing was figuring out what the hell had kept him and Patrick out of the Above, yet there they were, wasting time and pulling pranks on Gerard’s coworkers. 

Patrick was staring hard at one of the coffee machines. Gerard gave him a weird look, and he sighed. “I’m trying to turn it on without touching it,” he explained. “I don’t think it’s working.”

“Well, there’s a power we could have tested out just as easily at home,” Gerard said with a sigh. “We should go, we’re not accomplishing anything here.”

“No, wait!” said Patrick. He made towards the counter, paused before his foot could pass through, then stepped around it. Gerard had to suppress a laugh. Even after death, Patrick was too polite for his own good. He reached out and flicked one of the coffee makers on. 

Spencer turned it back off reflexively, not even seeming to notice.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Gerard observed. He stepped through the counter - Christ, that was weird, but oddly satisfying - and glanced into the back room. Ryan was sitting on a crate and scribbling into his notebook; probably something for the campus literary magazine, or song lyrics. One of the two. Gerard walked over and took a look. Ryan was normally gun-shy when it came to his writing, displaying it only to Brent, Spencer, and anyone who read the lit mag, which was approximately no one. 

His handwriting was near-illegible, but from what Gerard could make out, the words were pretty good. It was somewhere between poetry and prose, with attempts at structure abandoned halfway, transformed instead into running sentences and paragraphs filled with flowery metaphor. Gerard thought he even saw something about angels. That would be just like Ryan, to channel dramatic irony without ever realizing it. 

As he leaned in closer to try and decipher a particularly smeared spot of ink, it hit him.

That feeling. A lightness in his chest, a warmth; not overpowering, but pleasant, like sunshine on his cheeks. A certain familiarity, a nostalgia so strong it made his very bones ache. It felt like innocence; soft skin and wide eyes, gentle words and unconditional love. It was exactly the aura he’d felt radiating from Patrick, from _Mikey_.

It was the feeling of heaven.

Gerard ducked past Ryan and burst through the back door, not thinking of anything but the urge to follow his instincts. He could hear Patrick calling his name, but he didn’t care. He needed to find the feeling’s source - but no, it was beyond a feeling at this point, it was an energy, like lightning coursing through his veins. He could feel it buzzing beneath his skin, calling out to him, and he _needed_ to know where it was coming from. 

Gerard turned in a circle. He hadn’t been back here before; Mikey had always stopped him whenever he’d gotten near the back door, saying he wasn’t allowed. The shop’s outer wall was made of solid brick, red blocks laid in a regular pattern right up to…

Gerard’s eyes widened.

Sitting smack in the middle of the wall was a patch of shimmering white light.

Patrick stumbled through the door, one hand keeping his hat steady on his head. “What is it?” he said, worried. “Did something happen?”

“Yeah,” said Gerard, not taking his eyes off the circle of light. “Something really, really good.”

He didn’t need to think twice before he stepped through. 

Patrick let out a startled noise, but there was no need for him to be scared. Gerard wanted to laugh out loud. There was no fucking _need_ , because there he was, standing with the portal behind him, looking out across the misty flats to the golden gates of the Above.

“Patrick!” he said gleefully. “C’mon, look at this!” He turned around, and, after a long moment, Patrick jumped through the portal. His expression shifted from nervous to awed before his feet even hit the ground. 

“Oh my God,” he said. “Is that - I mean, are those - ?”

“The pearly gates? Yup,” said Gerard. It was all he could do not to take off running. Instead, he let Patrick take it in for a moment before inclining his head toward the gates. “Shall we?”

“Of course! I mean, absolutely. Wow.” Patrick trotted after Gerard, the mist swirling around their feet as they approached the gates. “So, this is heaven,” he said, wonderstruck. “Is it all like this?”

“Nah, the inside’s different. Not that I’ve seen much of it,” said Gerard. He could feel himself grinning as the desk in front of the gates came into view. As soon as he walked through, he’d get to see Mikey. Mikey would undoubtedly be pissed that Gerard had barely lasted a year before kicking the bucket, but death wasn’t so bad, really, as long as it led to a reunion. 

The angel sitting at the front desk looked up.

Gerard had barely raised his hand to wave when the angel popped up directly in front of him, eyes wide. “Holy shit, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!” he said fervently. “Anyone! Fuck, it’s been so long, how the hell did you get here? You -” He did a double take. “Wait, aren’t you Mikey’s kid? Gerard Way?”

“That’s me,” Gerard confirmed. “And this is Patrick.”

The angel stared at Patrick. “Stump?”

Patrick looked startled. “How do you know my name?”

“Oh, this is - well. I don’t know what it is. It’s not great to see you dead, but it’s good to _see_ you. Shit.” The angel shook his head in wonder. “Pete’s gonna flip. Anyway, I’m William, nice to see you. Patrick, you wanna come on in?” He waved to the gates, and they swung open wide. 

Patrick barely seemed to notice. “Sorry, did you say Pete?” he asked. 

William nodded. 

“My Pete?”

William nodded again.

Patrick looked stricken. “What’s he doing here? Oh my God, don’t tell me he’s dead, I -”

William grinned. “No, he’s not dead, don’t worry. You two have got a bit of talking to do, that’s all.” He ushered Patrick toward the gates. “Go on. Say hello. You’ve got an eternity, after all!”

Patrick allowed himself to be herded forward, but stopped at the last moment, looking over his shoulder to Gerard. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked, confused.

William answered for Gerard. “He’s staying with me. I’m sure you two will meet again soon, but I’ll need to hang onto him a bit longer.” He was still smiling, but Gerard thought he detected a faint trace of impatience. Patrick frowned slightly. He opened his mouth, most likely to protest, but with a flick of William’s wings, the gates closed behind him, and he vanished from sight. 

“What the hell?” Gerard asked angrily. “You can’t just lock me out! I’m supposed to go in, I need to talk to -”

“You need to talk to me,” said William. His smile was long gone; now, he looked deathly serious. He folded his wings and took a seat behind his desk, glancing up at Gerard with a look that dared him to protest. “I’m the gatekeeper,” he said. “I’m the first person to greet all the new souls coming in. That means I’m pretty damn well-informed, and I can tell when things go wrong. Wanna know what’s gone wrong this time?”

“What?” Gerard asked, dread building in the pit of his stomach.

“The new souls stopped coming in.”

Gerard’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“They stopped coming in,” William said grimly. “We haven’t had a single new soul enter the Above since we made that fucking contract with the demons. I think the enchantment was too strong. Instead of stopping demons and angels from going to the Middle, it severed the connection entirely.” He gave Gerard a searching look. “Or, that’s what I thought until you showed up. How did you get here?”

Gerard shrugged helplessly. “I just found a portal and went through it.”

William buried his face in his hands, heaving a deep sigh. “Fuck, I thought you’d have answers. Great. So we really don’t have any clue what’s happening, then. Good to know.”

“I was hoping _you_ would know what to do,” Gerard admitted. “I guess two heads aren’t much better than one in this situation.” He gestured to the gate. “Are we done here? I still need to talk to Mikey.”

William gave him a blank look. “What? No, you’re not going through.”

Gerard frowned. “What do you -”

“Gerard, do you not realize how big this is? You’re the first human I’ve seen in _months_ ,” William said emphatically. “What about all the people who’ve died in that time, huh? Do you know where they went? ‘Cause I’d bet good money they’re just wandering around the Middle, lost, like you were. But you!” He pointed to Gerard. “You’re the first person I’ve seen who can travel between the realms.”

He let the silence stretch out, his last words hanging on the air. 

“They can’t find their way alone,” he said. “You need to bring them to us.”

Gerard was lost for words. “I - what?” he stammered. “Bring them to you? As in, you’re sending me back down to the Middle? But I died!”

“You’ve died before,” said William. “We can send you back down if we want to.”

“But Mikey -”

“Can wait,” William finished. “He’s not going anywhere. He’s where he belongs, unlike the souls you need to guide.”

“But - _all_ of them? William, thousands of people die every day, and it’s been _months_ since the Above got cut off! How am I supposed to find them all?”

“I don’t know. But we don’t have a choice,” said William, and it was only then that Gerard noticed the desperation in his voice. “Please. If we don’t get people on the right track, it’s the end of life and death as we know it. We need your help.”

“Thousands,” Gerard said weakly. “All over the world. It’ll take me years to find them all.”

“It’s what you have to do,” said William.

“But the bodies will just keep piling up! And, shit, I’m a fucking art student, how the hell am I supposed to travel across the world?” Gerard shook his head. “I could try, but it’d take a miracle to get me off the continent.”

“It’s a miracle you’re here at all,” William said quietly. “Mikey tried to take you with him to the Above, you know that? But for some reason, you were kept behind. You were chosen. You’re the only person who’s ever been to the Middle, the Above, _and_ the Under. Have you thought about that? And now you’re the only person who’s been able to cross over without help. There has to be a connection.” He looked directly into Gerard’s eyes, as if searching for something within them. “People don’t get guardian angels for no reason, you know. We choose people to guard based on how powerful their soul is. Those with the purest hearts are -”

“Please, God, do not say destined for greatness,” Gerard sighed.

William nodded. “So Mikey told you, then.”

“Yes. And he’d be able to tell me a lot more if you just let me _talk to him_ ,” said Gerard, finally letting a bit of his frustration bleed through. “Come on. It doesn’t even have to be for long -”

“Every second we spend talking, more people die,” William said. “We need you. The world needs you. Mikey used to wonder what your calling was, you know. What you’d grow up and do to make your name go down in history. He freaked out when you died the first time. You’d never gotten to achieve your potential. But maybe we were looking at it wrong.” His eyes lit up with a sudden excitement, and he took a step closer to Gerard, grabbing onto his arm. “Maybe your purpose isn’t about what you achieved in life, but in death! This is where you get to make your mark!” 

Gerard took a step back, slightly unnerved. When Mikey had brought up his supposed destiny, he’d brushed it off. There was no way it could apply to him. There was nothing in particular that made him special, and honestly, he took it as a comfort. He had a hard enough time getting through life as a normal human being; he didn’t need any extra expectations to live up to, especially not impossible ones. 

As long as he had chosen to ignore it, it was like it hadn’t existed. 

But here was William, declaring him to be some savior of lost souls, and it was like the spotlight had been pinned on him. There was no way he could wriggle out of it this time. His mind instantly recoiled at the idea of him being so colossally important. It was absurd.

But at the same time, William kind of had a point. The fact that Gerard was the first human to show up in the Above _was_ weird. Really, the fact that he had been able to locate it at all was enough to make him wonder.

“Oh, shit,” he said to himself. 

“What is it?” asked William.

“Patrick,” said Gerard, his brow furrowing. “When we met, I… He’d crashed his car, and I’d gotten run over. We both should’ve died. I mean, we did, but I knew that something had gotten messed up if we were still in the Middle. I was trying to figure out what to do, and I…” He held up one hand, staring into his palm as the memories swirled through his mind. “I touched his soul.”

“It’s a sign,” William breathed. 

Gerard cringed. “I don’t know about that -”

“No, it’s got to be!” William’s wings flapped with excitement. “There’s no way you can talk yourself out of that, Gerard. No normal human can see souls. No human at all, actually. You,” he said, pointing a triumphant finger at Gerard, “Are special, and you’re exactly what we need. Now get down there and be a leader, and for Christ’s sake, try not to take too long.”

Gerard barely had the chance to look shocked before William snapped his fingers, the mist beneath his feet churned, and he was being shoved backwards onto an unfamiliar street. 

What the fuck?

He straightened up, eyes widening with horror. 

He knew he was in the Middle, but where, he had no clue. The sidewalk beneath his feet was damp with rain. People and cars whizzed by him, and his ears were filled with the rush of city traffic. None of it gave him any indication of where he was. 

The only thing he could be sure of, he thought, his heart sinking into his stomach, was the impossible task that had just been laid out for him.

***

At first, Gerard was determined to shake off William’s ideas of his future. Fortunately, he’d been dropped off in Jersey, so it didn’t take him long to find his way back home. He’d gone back to the coffee shop, thanked his lucky stars the portal hadn’t disappeared from the storeroom, and walked straight back into the Above.

But the moment William laid eyes on him, he’d scowled and sent Gerard back home with a flick of his fingers. It was clear that he wouldn’t get to talk to Mikey any time soon.

After that, he’d tried to go back to life as usual, but it was a halfhearted attempt at best. He was distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the people around the world drawing their last breaths, then waking up confused and alone, with no one to show them the way. 

Gerard might not believe he could do anything to help, but that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty.

And then there was the fact that no one could fucking see him. It was a bit difficult to go about life as usual when he was invisible. He thought he’d gotten a girl’s attention on the street, once, when he’d concentrated hard, but it had left him drained for hours afterwards. In the end, he’d resorted to wandering the streets as he tried to make some sense of the enigma that was his own existence.

He could still sense purity when he came across it. He hadn’t tried to peek at anyone’s soul; the concept of reaching between their ribs without ever being seen was just fucking creepy. Besides, he didn’t need to. It was like he became more attuned every minute. He could feel the goodness radiating from someone from ten feet away, a subtle hum of white noise in the back of his mind. He could feel corruption, too, like static prickling at his nerves. It didn’t always come from the most expected places. In just a few hours, he’d come across a frat boy with a snapback who felt like a beacon of sunshine, and a girl in a flowery sundress whose very presence exuded malice. 

But there was nothing he could do with them. They were all living. 

Searching out the dying was more difficult than Gerard had expected. It took him a while to realize his goal, but after roaming the city for hours, he had to face the truth. He’d been given a job, and damn if he wasn’t going to see it through. He couldn’t let that many people down. He stuck to wandering around for a while before it finally hit him, and he wanted to slap himself for not thinking of it sooner. A hospital. Of course. Where else was there such a concentration of people on death’s door?

The moment Gerard entered the waiting room, he knew he’d come to the right place. His feet moved without direction, carrying him through the halls past the unseeing eyes of nurses and doctors. He wasn’t sure exactly what guided him. It was a magnetic tug, pulling him in the right direction until he found himself stopping at a door.

It was slightly ajar, and inside, he could see a sleeping child, with a chunky oxygen mask fixed over her face and tubes looped all around her. 

He didn’t need to look at the monitor that beeped with her heartbeat to know she was dying. 

Gerard took a slow step inside, feeling awkward, like he was intruding on something not meant to be seen. He wasn’t this girl’s family. He had no place here. But there was no one else in the room, and he could feel the life slowly draining out of her, and if that wasn’t enough reason to stay, he didn’t know what would be. 

She took a slow breath, her lungs rattling. Her eyelids fluttered. The next time she inhaled, it stuck in her throat, and she coughed, her body fighting to keep her airways open. Gerard realized he was holding his breath, too. 

Her breathing evened out. 

But it was only a matter of time. She looked thin and drawn against the hospital sheets, a feeble imitation of what a child her age should look like. How old was she, six? Seven? Too young to be stuck in a room that smelled of chemicals, with an IV drip hooked into her arm. She should be off on a playground somewhere, laughing, her brown curls bouncing as she ran. 

The monitor beeped a steady rhythm in the background. 

Gerard stepped closer to the bed, sitting down in the empty chair beside it. It didn’t feel right, for the room to be empty as a child slowly slipped away. She deserved company. A family to gather around her, or a caring nurse, at least. Someone more competent than Gerard.

But if he was all she had, he’d have to do.

“Hi,” he found himself saying softly. 

She didn’t respond. Of course she wouldn’t; Gerard hadn’t expected her to. 

“My name’s Gerard,” he said. “I know I can’t really ask yours. I could probably find it in here somewhere if I looked around, but I don’t wanna dig through your stuff, and hospitals kind of freak me out.”

He took a deep breath, fighting to ignore the sterile, chemical scent of the room.

“I guess I can ask your name in a minute,” he said, returning his attention to the little girl. “But I wish I didn’t have to. It fuckin’ sucks, all this - oh, crap.” He quickly covered his mouth. No swearing in front of kids on their deathbed. Right. “Sorry. But this is weird, isn’t it? I don’t even know you. I shouldn’t be here, not in these circumstances.” He knew the girl couldn’t hear him, but he couldn’t really stop himself now that he had started. This was bullshit. If they were ever meant to meet, it should’ve been in some semi-normal way, instead of just beyond the edge of mortality. 

The steady beep of the monitor morphed into one long tone.

Gerard stared at the flat green line. The same magnetic sensation that had brought him to the girl’s bedside was pulling at him, but in what direction, he wasn’t sure. He itched to do _something_. The longer the line stretched, the stronger the feeling grew.

A nurse rushed into the room, her gaze skimming right over him. She went directly to the girl, checking machines and last resorts, but it was too late. She must have known that. Gerard did. The monitor whined incessantly in the background.

The girl opened her eyes.

She frowned at the nurse still fussing over her and slowly sat up, looking around the room before noticing Gerard. While she rose to a sitting position, she left another, paler version of herself lying against the pillow. Gerard tried his best not to stare. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Who are you?” she asked, her nose crinkling.

“Gerard,” he said, swallowing his nerves. This was just Patrick all over again, he reminded himself. All he had to do was pretend he knew what he was doing. 

“I don’t know you,” said the girl.

Gerard nodded. “That’s true. But I’m meeting you now, right? What’s your name?”

“My mommy says I shouldn’t talk to strangers,” the girl said suspiciously. She looked up at her nurse, reaching to tug on her sleeve.

Her fingers passed right through the fabric. The nurse continued her work, pressing buttons and sparing the girl the briefest of sad looks. 

The girl frowned. “Miss Angie?”

Gerard’s first instinct was to avert his eyes. Instead, he cleared his throat. “She, um… She can’t hear you.”

“Why not?” the girl asked, the first traces of childlike upset beginning to show in her features. “Miss Angie, listen to me! I’m right here!” She waved to the nurse. When she was met with no response, her tiny eyebrows drew together, and Gerard could see the hurt and confusion clouded in her eyes. 

“She can’t hear you,” Gerard repeated gently. “Do you wanna tell me your name, kid?”

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers,” the girl said, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. 

“I’m not a stranger once we’ve met,” Gerard offered. “You already know my name, so we’re halfway there.”

The girl seemed conflicted. Gerard prayed she wouldn’t object to his flimsy logic, and it appeared that luck was on his side, because a moment later, she relaxed and looked up at him. “I’m Grace,” she said. “Why can’t Miss Angie hear me? Oh!” A second nurse had come into the room to join the first. “Hi!”

The nurse didn’t answer. Grace watched as she went to the window and opened it, her bottom lip wobbling dangerously. 

“No one can hear me?” she whispered. 

Gerard nodded, his heartstrings tugging painfully at the look on her face.

“Am I dead?” she asked.

Gerard winced. He wished he could reassure her, tell her that she was alive and well, but he knew he couldn’t. Lying would do her no good. “Yeah,” he said. 

Grace looked down, finally taking notice of her own lifeless body, gasped, and burst into tears. A flare of anxiety shot through Gerard. Shit, he didn’t know how to deal with this. He quickly stood up, floundering for a moment before bending down a little so he could be at Grace’s height as he spoke. 

“Hey,” he said in what he hoped was a soothing tone. “You’re okay. It didn’t hurt, right? You feel fine?”

Grace shook her head, her face screwed up as tears rolled down her cheeks. Shit. Was that a no to the first question or the second? Gerard hated when people cried; he never knew what he was supposed to do, and it was a thousand times worse when the person upset was a little kid. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said softly. “This isn’t so scary, is it? You’ve got me to talk to.”

“B-but I’m _dead_!” she sobbed. 

“Well, yeah. But it feels just like being alive, right?” 

Grace looked up at him with watery eyes and blotchy cheeks. “I guess so,” she mumbled. Her breath hitched, and she let out another quiet sob, but she seemed to be calming down a bit.

Good, okay, that was something. “See, it isn’t so bad,” Gerard said encouragingly. “All you have to do is move on. I can take you someplace nicer than this, if you want.”

It was the wrong thing to say. “I can’t leave!” Grace wailed. “My mom and dad won’t know where to find me!”

Shit, shit, _shit_. Gerard tentatively patted the bouncy curls atop her head. He didn’t know what else to do. Her shoulders shook with a shuddering breath, but she didn’t move away, so he must not have fucked up too badly. He took a chance and leaned in to hug her. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

Grace was stiff for a moment, then relaxed into his touch, her crying muffled against his shoulder. “I don’t want to leave,” she said unhappily. 

“Well, I can’t make you,” he said, pulling away to look into her eyes, still wet with tears. “But I don’t think you can stay here. It’ll only make you sad. Wouldn’t you rather go someplace else?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered.

“You should come with me,” said Gerard, sounding more confident than he felt. God, what if the kid said no? He couldn’t just drag her to the portal and push her through. 

Well, technically he could, but it’d make him feel like shit, and he doubted William would approve.

Grace wiped her eyes, sniffling a bit. “Where would we go?”

“Heaven,” Gerard said simply.

The change in Grace’s expression was almost comical. Her mouth dropped open. “You can take me to heaven?” she asked. “Are you an angel?” She wiped her nose, not taking her wide eyes off Gerard.

Gerard smiled. “Nah, not an angel. But I know a few.”

“Wow,” she breathed. Her eyes were sparkling, but no longer with tears. She quickly scrubbed at her face and swung her legs over the side of her hospital bed. “Show me, I want to see!”

At full height, she stood a few feet shorter than Gerard. She tilted her head back to look up at him, calm as could be, as if she hadn’t just been crying her eyes out. Kids were so weird. “Well?” she said expectantly. “What are we waiting for?”

Gerard shook his head, bemused. “You’re something, kid. You know that?”

“So are you,” she said. “I want to meet your angel friends!”

She beamed at him, and Gerard was about to lead her out the door when her face blurred and vanished. Hovering in her place was a white orb, roughly the size of his fist, that bathed the room in a soft glow.

“Oh,” he said to himself, surprised. “Okay?”

He reached out and plucked the orb out of the air. It was lighter than a feather, but burning hot, like a miniature star. As he touched it, he could almost hear an echo of a little girl’s laughter. 

Gerard watched the two nurses as they murmured to Grace’s body, beginning the process of washing and dressing her so she could be taken away. They didn’t look at all fearful or hesitant. They were used to death, he supposed. They respected it. In any case, they were a lot more sure of themselves than he was.

He looked down at the glowing orb - the soul - cupped in his hands. 

It was time for Gerard to bring her home.

***

“It took you that long to get one soul?” William’s voice radiated disapproval. He took the orb from Gerard, waved his hand, and Grace popped back into being. She stumbled as her feet landed on the misty ground.

“Wha - oh!” She gaped at William, taking in the halo around his head and the wings folded behind his back. 

“Told you I knew angels,” said Gerard. 

“Wow,” Grace said, eyes wide. “H-hi!”

“Hi there,” William said, giving her a little wave. Gerard could have laughed at the change in his disposition. He went from stressed and snappish to friendly and inviting in the blink of an eye. “How was your trip? Did Gerard treat you all right?”

She nodded slowly, still staring at William’s wings. 

“Do you want to go inside?” he said kindly.

Grace nodded vigorously.

William showed her to the gates, giving a little bow as he waved them open, and she giggled. “There should be someone who can help you find your way around,” he said. “Just ask for Alicia.” Gerard grinned to himself at that. He fucking _knew_ Alicia wasn’t human.

Grace stepped through the gates as if entranced, her curls flying everywhere as her head whipped back and forth to look in every possible direction. Gerard expected her to keep walking, but she stopped at the last moment and turned to look at him. “Are you gonna come, too?”

“No,” said William. Gerard sighed. 

“I’ll be coming soon,” he said. “But I’ve got a job to do first.”

Grace tilted her head. “What kind of job?”

Gerard shrugged. “Bringing people like you to heaven.”

“Woah! That’s awesome! So you get to help people?” Grace said excitedly. “Can I do that, too?”

Gerard laughed. “Nah. You’ve got places to be, too. But maybe I’ll come say hi when I’m done.”

“Okay,” said Grace, pleased. “Bring me back something cool.” 

And with that, she turned on her heels and marched through the gates into the Above. Gerard cracked up.

“Looks like you made a friend,” said William, amused. He pulled the gates closed, and his smile faded, a bit of his previous stress returning. “But you can’t take that long with every pickup, you know that.”

“I know, I know. There are thousands left.” Gerard cringed at the very prospect. “But that was my first one. I’m still trying to figure out how this works.”

“You’re doing okay. Next time, try and take more than one, though. You saw how you can isolate her soul? Do that with a whole bunch of people, and you can ferry them all at once.” William returned to his desk, uncapping a pen and scribbling something down on the notebook that lay open atop it. “Go on, get going.”

“Can’t I just talk to Mikey -”

“No,” William said sharply. “I get it, I really do, and he won’t get off my ass, either, but there’s just no time. Get going.”

Gerard sighed and turned around, beginning the short walk to the portal.

***

“Shit, shit!” Gerard flung out his hand, freezing a ball of light in midair before it could hit the ground. Hovering around him were a good twenty souls, and keeping them all afloat was a balancing act. He still hadn’t quite gotten a grip on the whole _levitation_ thing. It was going better than teleportation, though. He was still nervous to try that out after he’d ended up in the middle of Tokyo. The cars couldn’t hurt him, of course, but having three taxis pass right through him in rapid succession was possibly the most nerve-wracking thing he’d ever experienced. 

Gerard crooked his fingers, and the errant soul rose up to float above the others. He let out a slow breath. Everything was under control. He just had to concentrate. 

He held out his hands as he walked, a cluster of souls trailing behind each. He knew he had to practice teleporting into the Above sometime soon, but not yet. Not when he was carrying this many people. He’d take care of them, endure a quick lecture from William, then pop down for his next trip. The back-and-forth was a little boring, but he was used to it. The minimal conversations he got to have with the deceased before he isolated their souls were always interesting enough.

It didn’t take long to bring the souls to William. The coffee shop wasn’t far away, and it only took a few minutes for him to dart around back, trying his best to avoid the employees despite the fact that they couldn’t see him. It was just weird. Every time he snuck past Brian, he felt like he was a second away from getting busted and yelled at. 

But no one ever caught him. He strolled through the portal, waving hello to William, and allowed the souls to drift in his direction. William nodded in greeting, and each ball of light burst into the shape of a human being. He’d take down their names, when they died, and how, then wave them on through the gates with a quick set of directions. Gerard headed back to the portal as soon as he got the chance. The job was never really over. He still hadn’t caught up on the backlog of wandering souls that had died before he had started guiding them. There were always more waiting for him when he returned to the Middle, and he was starting to think there always would be. 

Gerard didn’t think guiding souls was a bad way to spend eternity, but then again, he didn’t have much to compare it to. 

That was what William called him, a “guide.” He sort of liked it. It made him sound official, like he was some sort of leader - but once, a dead college student had compared him to the grim reaper, and damn if he was ever going to forget that.

Gerard Way; reaper of souls. Huh. Who’d’ve thought. 

Gerard paused before the portal. He wasn’t carrying any souls now; it was as good a time to experiment as any. 

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, drew an anticipatory breath, and concentrated hard. The world twisted around him, bending light and space around a single point, and his heart jolted as he came back to himself on the side of a dirt road, gasping for breath. He’d rolled with a lot of punches since his second death, but _that_ was something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to. He had no clue how angels could just teleport around like it was nothing. 

Gerard scanned the area. A ways to the side was a house made of faded wood, with scraggly grass growing all around it. At first, he was pleased with himself; he hadn’t ended up in the middle of nowhere, and that was a definite improvement. He could feel the pull of death in the air around him. All he had to do was waltz inside and collect a new soul.

Then his heart sank.

When he picked up blessed souls, he could always feel their purity resonating somewhere deep within him. Damned souls were different. They felt like something sick; like sharp, poisonous fear. He wasn’t close enough to feel much of anything yet, but what he could make out wasn’t promising. It just felt like death. There was no light sensation attached. If he had to guess, he’d say the soul inside was damned.

Gerard wouldn’t go so far as to say he _hated_ guiding damned souls, but it definitely wasn’t at the top of his list of favorite activities. 

Every time he visited the Under, he flashed back to the moment he’d woken up in the red desert, confused and hungover and so very innocent compared to how he was now. The demons hadn’t been as interested in his sudden appearance as William had. They were only concerned with keeping the tide of incoming souls flowing, and never spared him a kind word. He was pretty sure the only reason they didn’t attack him on sight was due to his special position.

It was sort of off-putting. No one, not demon or angel, treated him like a normal human anymore. That was to be expected, though, because he really _wasn’t_. He had cheated death and gained a strange amount of power. Sometimes he wondered if he even qualified as human anymore. 

“Reaper” was a much simpler label, and he found himself using it more and more often. It was easily understood, more so than “guide,” and it was definitely better than what some of the angels kept calling him. He wouldn’t be caught dead referring to himself as _chosen_.

Gerard trudged his way up toward the house. Collecting one damned soul meant he would have to collect at least ten more, or the trip down wouldn’t be worthwhile. It wasn’t the souls themselves he minded; he pitied them more than anything else. Most of them didn’t seem like bad people. They’d just gone down the wrong path. But meeting them meant he would inevitably have to take them to the Under, and it still made his skin itch, even after traveling there hundreds of times.

Gerard stepped through the door to the house. He knew there had to be a soul nearby, either dead or close to it. He hoped they were already dead. It was always easier to pick up a soul that had been lost for a while; they knew they were dead, and had usually come to terms with it. But the newly-deceased, they were more difficult. He always felt bad breaking the news to them. 

He looked around the hallway, frowning to himself. His senses usually would have kicked in by now. The familiar pull in his stomach would lead him; it was as simple as that. But he couldn’t feel anything resembling a path. It was just the aura of death pressing in on him from all sides. 

Gerard took a minute to explore the first few rooms of the house, but each of them turned out to be empty. He tried going up the stairs, found no one, and wound up standing in the doorway once more, thoroughly perplexed. His senses had never misled him before. 

He began a second loop around the house, this time leaving no stone untouched. He opened closet doors, checked beneath mattresses, and even looked in the shower stall, but there was no one there. The place was utterly deserted. He was crossing the living room once more, his confusion beginning to tip more toward desperation, when his eyes caught on a small alcove. He hadn’t noticed it before.

There was a door set into it; leading to the back yard, Gerard assumed. He threw it open and stepped through. Outside was an expanse of brittle grass like that which covered the front yard, leading into a grove of spindly trees. He could see the outlines of other houses behind them. After a quick glance around the yard, he nearly turned and headed back into the house.

That was when he noticed the figure slumped at the base of the treeline. It was a man, he could make out that much, with a black leather jacket and a head of curly brown hair. If Gerard squinted, he thought he could make out the stain of blood surrounding him.

It sent a flicker of satisfaction through Gerard. There was the body; he was in the right place after all. Now, if he could only find the soul it belonged to…

Gerard squinted. 

There was something a little too familiar about that jacket.

He moved without thinking. One step, then another, and his feet were carrying him as quickly as they could toward the lifeless man. He stopped a few feet away from the base of the tree, almost forgetting to breathe. It couldn’t be. But it was.

It was Frank.

It took Gerard a long time to find his voice. “What the fuck,” he said, his mouth dry. This wasn’t possible. He was seeing things, he had to be. Something must have gone wrong with his abilities. He didn’t know what the fuck could possibly make him hallucinate something like _this_ , but it was the only explanation. Frank couldn’t be here. This wasn’t real. He didn’t want it to be real.

Frank stirred and opened his eyes.

Instead of the black Gerard was expecting, they were light hazel, and slightly glazed over. He squinted a bit, giving Gerard a look of incomprehension. Gerard couldn’t do anything but stare. Frank - shit, seeing him was the last thing Gerard had expected from this trip, and he didn’t know what the fuck it made him feel. It was a good thing this wasn’t really happening. It wasn’t possible, it wasn’t -

“Gerard?” 

Oh, fuck.

Frank blinked hard, and some focus returned to his gaze. “Gerard?” he asked again, his voice clearer this time. “Is that you?” He sat up, pushing himself away from the tree, but stopped halfway through the motion, gritting his teeth with obvious pain. Gerard still stared.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he said finally.

Frank looked at him blankly. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m apologizing.”

Gerard’s heart clenched. An icy chill was beginning to trickle down his spine as the reality of his situation set in. “No, I mean, - _how_ are you here,” he said, fighting to keep his voice controlled. The question was meant to be shouted. What the fuck did Frank think he was doing? He belonged in the Under, not here, cutting open old scars. “The contract said no demons can be in the Middle anymore. How’d you get around it?”

Frank shook his head slightly. “Not a demon anymore.”

Gerard waited for a beat. 

“What?” he asked.

Frank gestured to the blood spattering the tree and grass behind him. “Y’think I did that for fun?”

“Can you just explain?” Gerard said impatiently. Nothing Frank was saying made any sense. It grated against his nerves, and definitely didn’t help the pit of anger and long-buried hurt churning in his gut. 

“Angels aren’t the only ones who can fall, you know,” said Frank.

“Explain,” Gerard snapped.

For a split second, Frank looked confused. Without the black tint of his eyes, he seemed more vulnerable; more human. He was an open book, every emotion visible in his expression. It made Gerard’s skin crawl. He didn’t want to see Frank at all, much less watch him struggle through whatever the fuck he was feeling. He tried not to pay attention to it.

“I’m not a demon anymore,” said Frank. “They kicked me out. Ripped my wings off. Definitely not the best experience I’ve ever had, but I’d do it again.”

“What the fuck,” said Gerard, mostly to himself, and then, louder, “What the fuck.”

He knew it was true. He had known something was off since before Frank had even opened his eyes. As a demon, Frank would’ve radiated corruption, the kind that buzzed at the edge of Gerard’s awareness any time he made contact with the damned. But now, there was nothing. No sin. No purity. He felt like a normal human, except for the cloud of death that hung over him, ready to strike at any moment.

“I got cast out,” Frank said simply. “The contract doesn’t apply to me anymore because I’m not a demon.”

“No - I know that, Jesus,” said Gerard, frustrated. “Why are you here? _Really_ here,” he added, seeing the growing confusion on Frank’s face. “You could’ve gone anywhere, but here you are, in front of me. Why?”

“I told you why I’m here,” said Frank, frowning. “I’m apologizing. Gerard, that’s the reason I’m here at _all_.”

Gerard’s stomach dropped.

“You didn’t.”

“This was my decision, if that’s what you’re asking.” Frank looked into Gerard’s eyes, searching for something; Gerard didn’t know what. “I told them they could go fuck themselves. I wanted to be here. I let them kick me out on purpose, Gerard.”

Gerard had to look away. “If you really think,” he said through gritted teeth, “That I’m going to accept your bullshit apology just because you came up here, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“It wasn’t all about you,” Frank said quickly. “I just didn’t want that to be me anymore. I’d hurt too many people, I guess, and I just didn’t want that -”

“Stop,” said Gerard, shaking his head. “Just stop. You wanted redemption? Is that it?”

“I… guess so,” Frank said meekly. Looking at him in that moment, so unsure, his back spattered with blood, Gerard wanted to turn and walk away. He could do it. He could. But something in him told him not to.

“Well, you won’t get it from me,” he said bluntly. “Try somewhere else. I don’t know why you think you can fix what you did.”

“It was unforgivable,” Frank said. He sounded genuinely ashamed, and Gerard hated it. “I know it was, but if there’s any chance I can make it up to you, I want to try, please. Not all of what Bert said was true -”

“But some of it was.”

Frank nodded. 

“How much?” Gerard asked before he could stop himself.

Frank winced. Gerard wasn’t sure if it was from regret or physical pain. Probably both. “I did lie to you, in the beginning. I was going to turn you in. But I changed my mind once I got to know you, I swear! Once I knew you were… Well, I don’t know, but I just couldn’t do that to you.” He ended on a pleading note, begging Gerard to believe without saying it out loud. 

Gerard coolly raised an eyebrow. Some sick part of him was enjoying keeping Frank hanging. He’d been strung along enough; surely Frank deserved a turn. 

But in the most private corner of his mind, he wasn’t so confident. He was hurt, yes; he was angry and betrayed and bearing the sting of a thousand cuts, but he wouldn’t let Frank see it. Frank had already proven that he didn’t care. Demons couldn’t be trusted, not even reformed ones. He couldn’t let himself be hurt again.

Or, at least, that was what he told himself. 

“I do care about you,” Frank said, an edge of desperation in his voice. “Bert’s crazy if he thinks I don’t. It was confusing at first - we’re really not supposed to care about anyone, especially not humans, but you’re... you’re special, Gee.”

Gerard stiffened at the nickname. “What, because of my soul?” 

“No,” said Frank, hurt. “Because you’re you.”

Gerard didn’t know what to say to that. 

Some time ago, he would’ve lashed out at anyone who could put that much sadness in Frank’s voice. Now, he was doing it himself, and it didn’t bother him at all.

Not at all.

“I was stupid to trust you,” he said quietly. “All those times, you warned me not to. You told me you weren’t a good person. Why didn’t I ever believe you?”

“Because you made me want to be,” Frank whispered. 

Gerard just shook his head. He let himself breathe for a moment, then shook it off. He didn’t have time for this. He should have been off collecting souls by now. “You should go,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. He should go, or Gerard should; either way, they couldn’t stay like this.

“What?” Frank looked stricken, and he sat up, nearly collapsing to the ground as he attempted to support himself. Gerard caught a glimpse of two ragged gashes in his back, and his heart seized. Maybe it was the sight of blood, maybe it was the sight of _Frank’s_ blood, but it set his teeth on edge. He took a step back. 

“Don’t go,” Frank said in a small voice, and there was that stupid vulnerability again, the kind that made Gerard want to open his heart instantly. But he couldn’t. Frank looked so human there on the ground, covered in blood, the scars of his own upward climb, and Gerard almost extended his hand. 

But he just… couldn’t. 

“Please, Gerard, I’m not done yet!”

Gerard swallowed a thoughtless response, something like “Okay.” Instead, he forced himself not to look at Frank. “You lied to me,” he said flatly. “You _used_ me, pretended you cared, and then tried to kill my fucking brother, and if you think I’ll _ever_ speak to you again after that -”

“What?” 

Frank’s voice was so sharp it forced Gerard to look at him again. “What do you mean, I tried to kill your brother?”

Gerard looked at him, incredulous. More than that. He was fucking pissed now, more than he was before. Frank had no fucking right to feign innocence. Not on something like this. “The last time I saw you, you showed up with Bert,” he said angrily. “And then you _protected_ him. You punched Mikey in the face, for fuck’s sake -”

“You think I’d protect _Bert_?” Frank asked. His previous uncertainty was long gone. If anything, he looked even angrier than Gerard. “After everything he did to me, you think I would _protect_ him?”

Gerard blinked, momentarily allowing confusion to take over, then pushed it back with a scowl. “Don’t ask me. I don’t know if anything you’ve told me is true. You and Bert could be best friends for all I know.”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Frank snapped. “Bert ruined my life, Gerard, and you know it. I was telling Mikey to back off so I could kill Bert _myself_.”

And with that, Gerard was officially lost. 

“What?”

“That’s why I got kicked out of the Under!” Frank said furiously. “The second that contract went into effect, it was just me and Bert, and I kicked the shit out of him.” He paused. “Well, he almost killed me first, but I got him. He’s dead, and that’s the end, and I don’t regret it. Not for one second.”

“But…” Gerard felt his resolve weakening. His world was falling apart around him. “But you…”

“I came after him just in time to save both your asses. Bert would’ve killed the both of you if I hadn’t intervened.”

“I…” It couldn’t be true. This was just Frank trying to trick him again, right? 

Gerard was grasping at straws, and he knew it.

“I didn’t try to kill Mikey,” said Frank, and his voice was like steel. “I saved his life.”

Gerard raked a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. It was a long time before he spoke. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” said Frank.

“I… I think I need to talk to Mikey,” said Gerard. “I’m not saying I believe you, but I just… need to sort some things out. A lot of things.”

“Will you come back?” Frank asked quietly.

Gerard nodded without thinking. Deep down, he knew he couldn’t say no. Against his better judgement, he was actually considering what Frank had said, and he had to admit, it made sense. 

Frank was still an asshole, of course. Untrustworthy. Gerard didn’t take betrayal lightly, and one apology wouldn’t be enough for Frank to win his trust back.

But if he really had saved Mikey’s life…

Gerard owed him a chance, at least. 

He held out his hand.

“Come on. You need to get inside, you’re bleeding everywhere.”

Gerard helped Frank stagger toward the house, keeping his eyes fixed to the ground so he could ignore the brief, pleased smile that had flashed across Frank’s face.

***

Gerard crossed his arms and glared at William with all the strength he could muster. William didn’t look at all put off, but he did lean back in his chair with a sigh. They both knew what was coming.

“Let me in,” Gerard said.

He was fully prepared to argue his point. He had a speech all ready, just waiting to burst from his lips the moment William said no, and this time, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But instead of an instant response, William’s eyes narrowed. “Something’s changed,” he said. “You seem… different. What happened?”

“I met…” Gerard hesitated. How would he describe Frank? Not an old friend, surely, but not an ex, either. He was just… Frank. “I met someone. A demon. Or, a former one, I guess.”

William’s eyes bugged out of his head. The halo around his head surged with a sudden brightness, and he jumped to his feet. “You _what_?” he asked, his voice shriller than usual. “Did they make a loophole? Can the demons get through to the Middle now? Those sneaky bitches, I’ll -”

“No! No, he’s not a demon anymore,” Gerard said quickly. “He got kicked out or something. But it’s not a big deal, I just need to talk to Mikey -”

“Not a big _deal_?” William repeated in disbelief. “Gerard, that’s the _definition_ of a big deal! Did he pull anything? Fuck, I’ll need to report this -”

“William,” Gerard said. “It’s not a big deal. I swear.” An idea occurred to him. “Mikey can back me up,” he said suddenly. If Frank’s story was true, Mikey could attest to the fact that he meant no harm. And if it wasn’t, well, there was one of Gerard’s questions answered. At least it would get him inside the gates.

William eyed him suspiciously. “Mikey knows this demon?”

“Yes. Can I just talk to him? _Please_?”

William scowled. He glanced toward the gates and was silent for a minute, then: “All right. But only because Mikey said he’d kill me if I turned you away one more time. It sets a bad example for an archangel to be stomping around paradise looking ready for mass murder.” 

Gerard felt himself grinning from ear to ear. William huffed. He snapped his fingers, and the gates swung open; it was all Gerard could do not to go racing through at top speed. He forced himself to stay at William’s side as they stepped onto the sidewalk. It was exactly the same as it had been the last time Gerard saw it; a long stone pathway winding its way up a gentle incline to a palace the likes of which could only be found in dreams. 

They made it two steps before Mikey smacked into Gerard, nearly knocking him off his feet. 

“I’m so fucking sorry, Gee, Bill’s been being such a _dick_ and I kept telling him to let you talk to me but he was being a stubborn asshole and I know you’ve got some kind of holy mission now or whatever but God, couldn’t we have had _five fucking minutes_ , Bill, you _ass_?” He had to stop and take a deep breath, glaring at William. Gerard was feeling a bit out of breath himself; partly from the shock of hearing Mikey cram so many words into one sentence, but mostly because the air was being squeezed out of his lungs. 

“Mikey,” he squeaked. “Can’t breathe.”

Mikey let go of him in an instant, looking apologetic. 

“Five minutes in the Above is different from five minutes in the Middle,” William said sourly. “A lot of people can die in that amount of time.”

Mikey rolled his eyes so hard Gerard thought they might fly out of his head. “Shut the fuck up, Bill, seriously.” He turned his gaze to Gerard, suddenly serious. “So. Gerard. You’re in the business of souls, now, huh?”

Gerard half-grinned. “Guess so. You know they’re calling me the grim reaper?”

“By ‘they’re calling you,’ you mean you’re calling yourself, right?”

“No!” Gerard protested. “I get that a lot now!”

Mikey grinned back at him. “Looks like you’re doing well for yourself, then.” Gerard’s heart swelled at the obvious pride in his brother’s voice. He’d really fucking missed Mikey.

William interrupted their moment by clearing his throat. “Mikey, you’ve got a story to back up,” he said.

Mikey raised an eyebrow. Gerard sighed, looking away as he tried to form a coherent explanation.

“I saw Frank,” he said quietly. Mikey made a shocked noise, and might have gone on, but Gerard held up his hand. “Wait, wait. He’s not a demon anymore. He got kicked out. He said…” He hesitated. “He said it was because he killed Bert. And saved your life.”

Mikey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

“I don’t know if ‘saved’ is the right term,” he said. “I could’ve taken Bert.”

“Mikey,” said Gerard.

Mikey sighed. “Yeah. Okay. I just… He’s a demon, Gerard, you never know what his motives are.”

“Are you saying it’s true?”

Mikey nodded almost imperceptibly.

Gerard barely managed to speak through his shock. “It’s - he really did? How?”

“He punched me to get me away from Bert, I assume,” Mikey said tonelessly. “And then Bert attacked you while I was distracted. Once I got him off you, they just ripped into each other. I didn’t really have to do anything. I just… watched. There was shouting. Blood. I was holding onto you when the contract went into effect, so it should’ve brought you with me, but it didn’t. They were gone. You were gone. And I was back up here.” He shrugged, indicating the area around them. 

“What?” William demanded. “ _What_? How did I not know about this? Mikey!” 

For once, Gerard’s thoughts aligned perfectly with William’s. 

He felt sort of sick. He thought it had been proven once and for all that Frank was a creature of pure spite who only meant to hurt Gerard, but the rug had just been pulled out from underneath his feet. There was too much room for doubt now. Frank had _saved Mikey_. By Gerard’s typical logic, that meant he couldn’t be all bad.

And if he wasn’t all bad… 

Maybe he’d just made mistakes.

Maybe he really _had_ meant to apologize. 

“Shit,” Gerard muttered. “I need to go back down. I’ll be back, I promise, but I have to… I don’t know, I have to clear things up.” If the situation were any less serious, he would’ve laughed. He had come to the Above to try and understand, and now, he was leaving for the same purpose. When had his life gotten so confusing?

“Of course you have to go back down,” said William, as if this should have been obvious. “I need reports on this! Whether or not he’s an actual demon, the fact that he’s in the Middle is -”

“Gerard,” Mikey said worriedly. “You still can’t trust him. Don’t do anything stupid, okay? This doesn’t change anything.”

“But it _does_ ,” said Gerard, shaking his head helplessly. “I want to…” He didn’t really know what he wanted. He wanted peace; he wanted the incessant swirl of thoughts and feelings to slow down so he could fucking breathe.

He wanted the truth.

“If there’s any chance I can make things right, I’m going to try,” he said. 

Mikey was expressionless as ever, but the slightest twitch of his eyebrows betrayed his unhappiness. Gerard touched his shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly. 

Then he stepped back, closed his eyes, and forced the world around him to take a different shape.

***

Frank was sitting on the porch in front of the house. He was paler, and he’d somehow changed his shirt. Gerard couldn’t see any more bloodstains. The aura of death had diminished, too, fading into the background until it was barely noticeable. Gerard opted to ignore it. He was more focused on Frank, and the way he was staring at Gerard with open curiosity.

“It’s weird to see you do that,” he said. “Just appear out of nowhere.”

“Yeah. Guess I’m not such a dumb human anymore, huh? I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve.” Gerard shoved his hands into his pockets. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He felt awkward, like he was the he who should be apologizing. He had to remind himself that it wasn’t true. Frank had still betrayed him. Frank was not his friend.

_Not yet_ , a small voice in the back of his mind added.

“So,” he said. “Mikey said you saved him. I… guess that means I have to believe you.”

“Yeah?” Frank said hopefully. Gerard nodded. “Does that mean you’ll let me apologize, too?”

Gerard nodded, a bit more hesitantly this time. He walked up the few steps leading to the porch and sat down on a chair beside him. It was weirdly casual, but not as bad as standing in the middle of the front lawn while trying to talk to him.

“I was fucked up,” Frank said, looking down at the ground. “Am fucked up. Always was, probably always will be. Being a demon is - was… different. I don’t know how to explain it.” He flexed his fingers, and Gerard could just imagine him playing with a ball of smoke. “It was like, all the shitty parts of me were treated as a good thing. Like being a fuckup was something to be celebrated.”

“You told me about that, once,” said Gerard.

Frank frowned. “Yeah. I didn’t really get too deep into it, though. I still didn’t want to be honest with you. Or myself. I just… wanted to be the strongest I could be, I guess? Except everybody was always fucking with me. No one respected me. The only way I could make myself better was by hurting you.” He winced. “It sounds bad because it is. And I knew it, back then, I did. I just didn’t want to admit how shitty I was being.” He was silent for a minute. “If I admitted that I cared about you, I’d be admitting that I could care about anything,” he said, so quietly Gerard almost missed it. “My grand plan to be a perfect demon wasn’t working so well after all.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Gerard said. It came out more sharply than he had meant it to. Frank stared down at his hands.

“I know it isn’t. But I don’t want you to think that… It wasn’t easy, okay? I didn’t _want_ to hurt you.”

“And yet, you did.”

“And it was a mistake,” Frank said fiercely, his eyes snapping up to meet Gerard’s. “I fucked this up, I know, but I want to fix it. ‘Cause you’re not just a dumb human, Gee.” His cheeks went slightly pink. “I mean, you never really were. You made me feel like… Like _I_ was human again, and I thought that was a bad thing, but it’s not. It’s _not_.”

Gerard didn’t know what to say to that. He didn’t think he needed to say anything. He looked into Frank’s eyes - the hazel was such a sharp contrast from the coal-black he was used to, but mesmerizing in its own way - and his pulse jumped. 

“What do you want me to say?” he whispered. His anger had temporarily vanished. He knew he sounded stupid, and probably looked it to, but when Frank was looking at him like that, it was a miracle he managed to string a sentence together.

“That you’ll give me a chance,” said Frank.

Gerard swallowed hard.

Mikey would tell him not to. His own common sense told him not to. 

But Frank had saved Mikey. He was trying to make things right. Hell, he’d gotten himself _kicked out of the Under_ so he could apologize. If that wasn’t genuine, Gerard didn’t know what was. 

Frank had fucked up, but didn’t everyone? Making mistakes was part of being human. 

And so was forgiveness. 

Deep down, Gerard knew his mind was already made up.

“Okay,” he whispered. 

Frank’s smile could have outshone the sun.

Gerard looked away before he could burst out into an identical grin. “So, if you’re not a demon anymore, what are you?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

Frank laughed. “Honestly? I have no fucking clue. What about you, though? The last time I saw you, you definitely couldn’t teleport.”

Gerard’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit. I forgot you didn’t know about that. I’m, uh… kind of a reaper now?”

“No way,” Frank scoffed. “That’s not even a thing!”

“It is now,” said Gerard. Frank looked at him skeptically. “I’m not kidding, I bring dead people to the afterlife now, that’s my thing!”

Frank’s face finally broke into a smile again, but he didn’t say anything. It was remarkable how easy it was to talk to him, even after everything that had happened. He’d fucked up, but so had Gerard, and at this point, he felt like they were even. Like their mistakes canceled out, and they could start anew. 

“This is usually the part where you make fun of me,” said Gerard. 

Frank shrugged lazily. “You could probably kick my ass now, I’m not gonna risk it.” He leaned back in his chair, still smiling as he stared out into the sky. “You know, only you could invent an entirely new classification of being just because you didn’t fit in any of the other boxes.”

“I’m not the only one anymore,” Gerard pointed out. “You’re a bit difficult to label, too.”

Frank took one look at him and burst out laughing.

“What?” Gerard asked. “You decided to make fun of me after all?”

“No,” Frank giggled. “It’s nothing, it’s just…” He waved his hand. “Life is fucking crazy.”

Gerard stared at him a moment longer before he had to laugh, too. It was maybe a little hysterical, but nice, too; like a release. He felt some of the tension he hadn’t known he was carrying leave his body. 

“Life is fucking crazy,” he repeated. 

Wasn’t that the truth.


	3. Epilogue

“Fucking hikers,” Frank said with a scowl. He grabbed onto the nearest boulder and pulled himself up with some difficulty, his feet scrabbling against the stone as he hauled himself over the edge. “Can’t people die someplace that’s not a thousand feet off the ground?”

“You mean a thousand feet above sea level?” Gerard asked. Frank rolled his eyes as he helped him up onto the boulder.

“You know what I meant, fucker. They’re just so determined to make our jobs difficult.”

“It’s not _that_ bad.” Gerard scanned the area around them, looking across the surface of the mountain for some sort of sign. He knew someone had died nearby; he just wasn’t sure where. “Help me look for them, come on.”

Frank leaned against his shoulder as they both gazed out over the mountainside. The view was amazing. The mid-day sun shone brightly over the lush forests and rocky peaks, and somewhere in the distance, Gerard could hear the rush of water. 

“This is kind of awesome,” he said. 

“Mm-hmm,” Frank agreed. “Better than the last trip, that’s for sure.” Gerard winced at the thought. Mere minutes ago, they’d been smack in the middle of a war zone, collecting one soul after another. He was used to that sort of thing by now, but it was never pleasant. He could still feel traces of adrenaline in his system.

“You know,” Frank mused, “Sometimes I think the Middle’s a lot better than the Above.”

Gerard stared. “You say that right after mentioning our last trip?”

“Okay, a lot of it sucks,” Frank conceded. “But the views are nicer.”

Gerard grinned. “Heaven’s too picturesque for you, huh?”

“God, absolutely. It’s like something out of a magazine, it’s gross.” Frank made a face. 

Gerard couldn’t help but laugh. “You didn’t say that the first time you went.”

The first time Frank had visited the Above, he’d been utterly spellbound. Gerard couldn’t blame him. It was a pretty magical experience, and visiting the place he was once destined for had to have been intense. He had totally teared up. Gerard hadn’t been stupid enough to mention it at the time, as he didn’t have a death wish, but now was a perfectly acceptable time for teasing. 

“Shut up, you,” Frank said with a grin, shoving him toward the edge of the boulder. Gerard squawked, and his feet nearly slipped off the edge, but Frank tugged him right back before he could fall. “You’re still so clumsy,” he tutted. “Remind me why anyone trusts you to guide souls?”

“Because I don’t throw people off cliffs,” Gerard said crossly. “You’re the worst reaper in the world, you know that?”

“Am I? You’re the one who got distracted by the scenery,” Frank said, smirking. 

Gerard huffed. “Shut your mouth. We’ve got souls to pick up.”

He sat down and slid off the rock. If he concentrated, he thought he could feel a path leading off to the left. Frank followed close behind him, his footsteps crunching on the pebble-strewn ground. Gerard resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and smile at him.

He fucking loved having a partner.

Most reapers nowadays had one. It didn’t take much to earn reaper status, and due to that fact, the population was growing rapidly. Any deceased human could apply; all they had to do was get approved by Gerard or one of the first few original reapers, visit each of the three realms, and bam. The abilities would appear within half an hour.

Unless they didn’t.

Nobody was really sure how the process worked. There were some ideas floating around, though. Some theories were more rational than others. One cited the fact that deceased souls had once been confined to the Above or the Under, but once they returned to the Middle, they defied death. Visiting all three realms was said to bring them to the next level, or something. Like enlightenment. They weren’t human, angel, or demon; they were something more. 

And then others claimed that reapers were God’s newest creation.

Gerard had no idea what to make of it all, honestly. 

All that mattered was that he wasn’t alone. He had a team of hundreds behind him, and that number increased every day. He didn’t have to guide the world’s dead by himself; instead, he could do it with his best friend. 

Gerard looked back over his shoulder, this time unable to stop himself from smiling. 

“What’re you grinning about?” Frank asked, smiling right back. “We’re hunting for dead people, you morbid fuck.”

“Nothing,” Gerard said airily. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Frank quickened his pace so he could walk next to Gerard. “Me? No, don’t make that face, motherfucker, you know you’re obsessed.” He bumped Gerard with his hip, and Gerard rolled his eyes.

“More like how you almost pushed me off a cliff.”

Frank pouted. “I wouldn’t have let you fall! What, don’t you trust me?” 

“I trust you to be a pain in my ass,” Gerard retorted. 

“Oh, believe me, I _could_ be,” said Frank, and his grin was devilish.

Gerard groaned. “Oh my God, _Frank_ -”

“But you’re usually the one who gets to -”

“Shut _up_ , you’re going to mentally scar some poor dead hiker!”

Frank giggled. Gerard tried to keep a straight face, but it was impossible not to smile when Frank sounded like that. It was like sunshine made audible, or something equally cheesy. Gerard loved it. It made him feel all light inside, and sometimes, when Frank wasn’t busy being a little shit, Gerard would catch him looking and know he felt the same. 

“Hey, Frank?” he said softly. 

“Yeah?”

Frank reached his hand out automatically, and Gerard took it, their fingers lacing together. “You know I do trust you, right?” 

Frank scoffed. “Of course you do, I’m…” His eyes widened just a fraction. “Oh. Oh, wait, you’re serious?”

Gerard nodded.

“Oh,” said Frank, sounding a little breathless. “Okay. Cool.”

Fuck, had Gerard never said it before?

He’d thought it was obvious. It had taken a while, sure, but now, he would’ve trusted Frank with… Well, his _life_ wasn’t exactly a relevant metaphor, but he would trust Frank with anything. They’d spent enough time together, popping back and forth across dimensions, sneaking kisses on the edges of battlefields… Maybe he hadn’t explicitly said it, but it was true. 

“I trust you,” he said firmly. 

“Cool,” Frank repeated, smiling widely. 

Gerard couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him, gentle and chaste. Frank made a pleased noise. 

“You think people are gonna get mad at us for taking too long?” Gerard murmured. 

“Why should we care?” Frank whispered back. 

Gerard smiled. “Good point.”

So, maybe they slacked off a bit. Maybe a few souls would have to wait an extra minute or two before their guides showed up. Maybe they were stupid, but all Gerard wanted to do was chase the feelings that overwhelmed him whenever Frank smiled. He'd finally found something - some _one_ \- who made him happier than anything else in the world.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt more alive.


End file.
